You're a Kid Now!
by Sovereign and Unbroken
Summary: Turning 14 is, arguably, one of the biggest things in an inkling's life. But, even when you're not just a squid, you're still being told what to do, how to dress, how to be "fresh". But youth naturally rebels, and the rebellious culture has taken hold in Inkopolis. With so much pressure to be cool, it's easy to forget to just have fun. It's time for these kids to be kids!
1. Not a Squid

_Oh, how nice it was out here… The sand on his bare feet, the sun warming his tentacles… His eyes were closed, but he could hear others around him, chatting, laughing, having fun. Yes, it was a great time to -_

Inkley woke with a start as something slapped against the side of his head. He leapt up to his feet, his cheeks flushed and his tentacles rippling.

"Wh-what?!" Inkley sputtered, blinking the sleep from his eyes and casting about worriedly. All he saw, however, was a taller form looming over him.

Jet smirked down at Inkley, her arms crossed. "Have a nice nap, Squirt?"

Inkley frowned at the nickname, his cheeks burning brighter and the flash of colors atop his head only intensifying. He looked up at his sister expectantly. Jet was eighteen, and much taller than Inkley, even taller than other inklings her age. Her tentacles were a deep shade of purple, and her clothing matched. She wore a purple hoodie, black, skin-tight shorts, a pair of white sneakers, and a blue headband that kept her tentacles tucked close to her head. Her bangs hung over the left side of her face, hiding one of her dark blue eyes.

"What?" Inkley asked, rubbing at the spot where he had been slapped.

Jet shook her head, her smirk only seeming to grow. "C'mon, kid. It's one in the afternoon. No time for napping."

Inkley mimicked Jet's posture, crossing his arms and glaring up at her. "I can do what I want. I'm not _just_ a squid anymore!"

Jet's smirk shifted into a grin, and she reached out and rustled Inkley's tentacles. "Yeah. Squirt's all grown up now, eh? A big boy, ready to take on the world?"

Inkley's cheeks burned, and he huffed indignantly. "Quit makin' fun of me."

"Oh, chill out, Squirt." Jet said with a laugh and a shrug. "C'mon, we're going out for lunch." Without waiting for a response, Jet turned and walked towards the door of her apartment.

Inkley blinked the surprise away. "What?"

Jet stopped, and looked over her shoulder. "Lunch, dweeb. You know. Second meal of the day? Some friends are having lunch at Fishy Frank's, and they invited us."

"Well, hang on, I gotta ink!" Inkley called, rushing to the bathroom.

"All you do is ink! Your eyes are bigger than your bladder!"

After relieving himself, Inkley washed his hands and splashed his face with cold water. With a deep sigh, he dried his face with a nearby towel, and looked into the mirror. Scrunching his features up, Inkley made a face at his reflection and grinned into his own blue eyes.

Inkley blinked when he realized his tentacles were discolored. Furrowing his brow, Inkley watched as his tentacles turned their usual yellow-green with a thought. Smiling, Inkley reached into his pocket, took out a small band, and busied himself with tying his longest tentacles up and behind his head as he walked back to Jet.

"Lookin' good, Squirt." Jet told him, shooting him a thumbs-up and opening the door. "All the girls will be head-over-heels for ya." She added with a slap on the back.

Inkley felt a little bit of heat rise in his cheeks and knew his tentacles were rippling, but for once in his life, felt a little more confident. Inkley hadn't spent much time out and about in Inkopolis, especially in his new body. But a growling stomach and a grinning sister simply had a way of persuading him.

Inkley's gait was somewhat awkward as he followed Jet, and on more than one occasion, Jet had to stop and help her brother up onto his feet. She didn't poke at him like usual while they walked, instead offering quiet reassurance. The first time Inkley had tripped, he was sure the whole city was watching him, but after a moment he realized no one seemed to even glance in his general direction. Still, he was thankful his shoes were black, or else they'd be covered in scuffs already.

 _I guess everyone's as wobbly as I am when they first start out._ Inkley shrugged the thought away, and hopped after Jet, nearly stumbling again but catching himself for the first time. "Hey! Wait up!" he called after her as she slipped inside an open door.

Inkley rushed after Jet, suddenly very scared of getting lost. Rounding the corner, Inkley expected to see Jet in the distance, but was instead greeted by a face-full of neon pink. Bouncing off of someone, the young inkling tumbled backwards, falling right onto his rear. Inkley tried to blink away a daze, looking up to see who he just ran into.

Yet, before he could focus, he was hauled off his feet by a surprisingly strong set of hands. He heard a delighted squeal, and was pressed back into the same pink he had just rebounded off of. " _Inkley!_ Oh my gosh, you're _soooo_ cute now!"

Finally released, Inkley took a step back and looked up. Synthia's beaming face looked down to greet him. Once more, Inkley felt himself blush and his tentacles ripple in color. Synthia reached down and pinched Inkley's cheek.

Synthia was a bright and bubbly Inkling, just a year younger than Jet, but a few inches shorter. Her tentacles, tied into a fairly complicated braid behind her head, were bright pink. Her eyes, a striking orange, contrasted strongly with the colors she wore. A pink jacket, open at the front to show a white shirt beneath, covered her torso, while a pair of purple shorts hugged her legs, and pink hi-tops were snug on her feet, which never seemed to sit still.

Inkley endured Synthia's treatment like he always did, though he was always a squid before. It was much easier to hide his embarrassment as a squid. Mumbling a half-hearted greeting, Inkley had his eyes firmly fixed on his shoelaces while Jet's best friend fawned over him.

"You know, Jet told me you turned fourteen, but I didn't want to believe it! I thought, _oh no, my sweet little Inkley won't be cute like he was when he's all squidy!_ " Synthia said, finally releasing Inkley's cheek. "But you're even cuter, with your pinchable cheeks, and your adorable little arms and legs."

Jet chuckled at Synthia's exuberance, but shook her head and gave her friend a playful swat on the shoulder. "Alright Synth, leave Squirt alone for a bit. He can barely stand up yet."

Synthia made her disappointment clear with an extended " _aww"_ , but shuffled out of the way as yet another figure approached.

The next inkling was tall like Jet, but had a much more masculine frame. His tentacles were dark blue, and hung loosely around his head. He wore a matching zip-up hoodie, and, despite current fashions - and the recent heat-wave - black pants. He also wore a pair of heavy, dark red boots that resounded loudly with each step he took. He sent a quick glance at Inkley with his dark green eyes, and adjusted the black backpack that was casually slung over one shoulder.

"Hey babe," Zoom said, casually pecking Jet on the lips. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and looked at Inkley. "Hey, little man. Lookin' fresh for how new you are."

Inkley scrunched up his face and made a disgusted sound. "Do you have to do that in front of me? It's gross! I don't need to see some dude sucking my sister's face."

Zoom laughed and shrugged. "You should - _oomph!_ " He was cut off as Jet delivered a swift elbow to his stomach.

" _You_ ," Jet hissed, "should go sit down before you say something dumb." Rubbing his stomach, Zoom rolled his eyes and turned to walk away. Jet shook her head, and patted Inkley's shoulder. "You know Zoom, Squirt. He's an idiot." She leaned down and smirked. " _I only keep him around because he's pretty._ "

Inkley snorted at Jet, and looked past her. "Where are we?" He wondered aloud.

Jet blinked, looking very confused for a moment, before slapping her palm against her forehead! "Oh, crap! _Right!_ You've never been out before, Squirt. C'mere, you should meet someone."

Looking around for the first time since he entered, Inkley realized this was some kind of restaurant. Booths lined the outside wall, while the middle of the room was dominated by a large counter with several stools sitting in front of it. Behind the counter was an older, friendly-looking jellyfish. Jet was standing at the counter, and waved for Inkley to approach.

Inkley approached, unabashedly staring at the jellyfish. Jet gave her brother a slap on the back to break him out of his haze.

"Fishy Frank, this is Inkley." Jet said, motioning to her brother. "Squirt, this is Fishy Frank."

The jellyfish peered over the counter at Inkley. "Hey, bud. Your sister's talked a lot about you." When Inkley cast an unsure glare at Jet, the jellyfish just laughed and shook his head. "Nothing _that_ bad, kiddo. She's been comin' here since she's had legs, and she's always had a few good words to say about you. What was it..?" Apparently having forgotten, Frank shrugged. "A lot of it would sound better comin' out of Synthia's mouth."

Inkley blinked, and looked at Jet. His older sister's cheeks were flushed, and her hair just barely rippled from purple to pink.

"Riiight…" Jet said quickly. "So, Frank, let's just get the usual, yeah?"

Fishy Frank gave a nod. "You got it." He waved to the siblings as they left the counter.

"Fishy Frank makes the best pizza this side of Inkopolis, Squirt." Jet said, giving Inkley a nudge for emphasis. "You won't be disappointed."

The siblings approached the booth where Zoom and Synthia had taken a seat. Jet slid into the seat beside Zoom, and he immediately slipped an arm around her waist. Inkley was pulled into the seat beside Synthia, once again having his cheek mangled by the bubbly inkgirl. After a few moments passed and the group settled in, the three older inklings got to talking about the kinds of things Inkley was always told he _wouldn't understand_. Resting his cheek on his fist, Inkley settled into a haze, counting the specks on the table and listening to the Squid Sisters song Fishy Frank had playing over a radio on his counter.

Inkley didn't quite know how long he sat like that, but he was startled enough to jump when a pretty inkgirl with striking green eyes set down a steaming pizza on their table. The girl simply smiled at him and walked away. Inkley took his hand away from his face, and realized that he undoubtedly left a mark. He placed his open palm over the red spot in hopes of hiding it while it went away.

While Inkley was busy contemplating his own face, the others had already begun eating. Five slices were gone by the time Inkley realized his folly, and he pulled a slice out while he still could. It was loaded with a thick layer of cheese, and covered in anchovies. Inkley gave it a quick sniff, before testing the waters with a small bite. And another. Before Inkley knew it, he had polished off the whole slice and was reaching for another.

"So, Inkley," Zoom said, finishing his third slice of pizza. "Now that you're all grown up, what're you gonna do with yourself?"

Inkley looked at Zoom blankly, his mouth hanging slightly open. "What?" He asked, his mouth still half-full.

"Well, you can't just spend all your time loitering, silly." Synthia added. "Now that you can move without inking everywhere, you've got to go out and do things!"

Inkley swallowed, and realized he didn't quite know what to say. "I… I dunno." He said quietly. "I haven't thought about it."

Zoom looked as if he were about to reply, but something seemed to catch his eye. A grin broke out on his face, and he nudged Jet with his elbow. "Hey, look who it is!"

All three of the older Inklings seemed firmly fixed on something outside. Inkley leaned over the table to get a better view, and only saw a group of inklings all wearing orange.

"Is that Cherry?" Jet asked. Without waiting for an answer, Jet jumped to her feet and rushed towards the door. "We'll pay the bill in a few, Frank!" Jet called as an afterthought.

Zoom was next, following after Jet with his bag slung over his shoulder.

Synthia just giggled and nudged Inkley out of the booth. "Well, get a move on, silly!"

With little choice, Inkley followed Zoom, exiting the restaurant, with Synthia on his heels. Jet was tightly hugging the one inkgirl in the group that wasn't wearing orange. Her tentacles were a deep crimson, and she wore a bright red hoodie and black pants.

"Cherry, I haven't seen you in, like, a week!" Jet said, grinning curiously. "Where have you been?"

Cherry suddenly looked guilty. "Oh… You know. Around. I had the ink-flu for a few days, too. I just got over it a few days ago." She motioned to the group of orange-clad inklings she was with. There were five, not counting Cherry, all around the same age, seeming to be fifteen or sixteen. "You've heard of the Tentacled Tangerines, right?"

Jet paused, looking cautiously at the group. "The Turf-War team? Yeah…"

"W-well, I'm kinda-sorta dating one of their members now…"

Jet smiled at Cherry. "Really? That's great!" Jet wrapped an arm around Cherry's shoulder in an almost possessive manner. "Maybe our teams can practice together sometime! That'd be great for _us_."

Cherry smiled nervously. "Y-yeah, that'd be fun!" Changing the topic quick, she motioned to the gathered, orange-clad inklings. "Here, let me introduce everyone!"

Zoom stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking a little annoyed at being left out. Synthia moved to join Jet and Cherry, and was welcomed into their cluster without delay. Inkley stood away from the ground, hands stuffed into his pockets as he awkwardly watched the group. Their shirts weren't just _matching_ , Inkley realized after a moment, they were _stylish_ , too. In the center of each shirt was the group's namesake, a tangerine with a duo of tentacles sticking out from either side. Seeing their coordination and style suddenly made Inkley very aware of his lack of either of those traits. Removing his hands from his pockets, he crossed his arms over his plain white shirt, hoping dearly to keep eyes off of himself.

Glancing over the group, one particular inkgirl caught Inkley's eye. Seeming to be just an inch or two taller than Inkley himself, the girl had bright orange tentacles that matched her shirt, and hung loosely around her head. At a glance, Inkley assumed she was just a little older than he was, maybe by a year or so. She wore a pair of the black, skin-tight shorts that were so popular in Inkopolis lately, as well as a pair of white and black sneakers. A duffel bag sat at her feet, looking quite full. What struck Inkley the most, however, were her eyes, which were some of the darkest he had ever seen, almost pure black.

Inkley couldn't help but gawk at the girl. He was suddenly very glad that Jet and Synthia were distracting Cherry, who was, in-turn, distracting the whole team, lest someone catch him staring at her. _She's really pretty_ , was the only thought Inkley could manage for nearly half a minute.

Inkley tuned into Cherry's words as she approached the girl he had just been staring at. "-and this here is, uh…. _Their_ newest member, Luma."

 _Luma_ gave Jet and Synthia a half-hearted wave.

Five minutes later, Jet had ushered her group back into Fishy Frank's, while the Tentacled Tangerines and Cherry remained outside, loitering for reasons unknown. Inkley had taken the seat closest to the window, so he could steal glances at Luma while her team was still outside. Once again, Inkley settled into a haze, taking every opportunity to glance out the window while the older inklings talked about whatever it was they were talking about.

But then something happened outside that forever changed Inkley's life. Luma appeared as if she had just had some kind of revelation, and looked down at her duffel bag. Inkley lost sight of everything else as Luma turned around, and the world seemed to slow down as she stooped over to rifle through her bag, leaving her rear sticking up in the air.

 _Ink me, those shorts…_

Time seemed to go on forever as Inkley watched. Until he felt a thump on the side of his head.

Inkley turned back to the table with a start, and realized, with more than a little shame, that Jet, Zoom, and Synthia were staring at him.

"Wipe the drool from your mouth," Jet told him. Absentmindedly, Inkley reached up to wipe his mouth, and only when Zoom and Jet roared with laughter did he realize he wasn't actually drooling. "Holy crap! You were _so_ checking her out!"

"Oh, Inkley's got a crush!" Synthia said, somehow restraining herself from pinching. "How adorable."

Inkley crossed his arms and looked down at his own lap, very aware that his cheeks were burning and his tentacles were undoubtedly rippling madly in color. After a minute of uproarious laughter, Jet seemed to calm down.

"Look, Squirt. If you're done looking at that girl's butt, I've got a surprise for you." Jet said finally, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. Inkley blinked at her. Jet nudged Zoom, who took his bag from beneath the table and dug through it for a moment. He pulled out a familiar shape, the kind of thing anyone in all of Inkopolis would recognize.

"Is that…?" Inkley began, but the words died on his lips.

Jet nodded, a smirk forming on her lips. "It's my old Splattershot." She said. After a moment, she shrugged. "Well, technically, it's a Splattershot _Junior_. But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is, I'm giving this to you, Squirt." Jet took it from Zoom's hands, and turned it over in her own. She looked quite nostalgic looking at the old piece of equipment. After a moment, she set it down on the table and slid it over to Inkley.

Inkley took it, almost reverently. Mimicking Jet's movements, he turned it over and over in his hands, running his fingers over every nook and cranny. "Thanks, sis." He said quietly.

Jet smiled softly, reaching over the table and patting Inkley's shoulder. "No prob, Squirt." After a long, quiet moment filled only by staticky music, Jet yawned and stretched. "Well, I'm beat. I think I could go for a nap." Jet glanced at Inkley. "And I bet he wants to fiddle with that thing." Leaning over, Jet gave Zoom a peck on the lips, and stood.

Synthia slid out of her seat to let Inkley out, and she and Jet embraced in a quick hug. "Stay in touch, 'kay?" As Inkley stood and stretched, Synthia rustled his hair and grinned at him. "You too, cutie."

Inkley mumbled a response and nodded absently. Jet ushered her brother towards the door, and just as she was about to leave, a thought occurred to her. She gave Inkley a gentle push out the door, and turned back to her friends.

Locking eyes with Zoom, she smirked. "Hey, babe! Could you get the bill for me? Thanks!" And then she was gone.

* * *

For the few seconds Inkley was left alone outside, he felt incredibly uncomfortable. Scanning the street, he realized that Luma was staring right at him. Inkley's mouth suddenly went dry, and he tightened his grip on the Splattershot Jr. he had just been given, as if it would help him feel better. It didn't.

Jet bumped into Inkley as she exited the building, and gave him an encouraging pat on the back as she ushered him down the street. Even walking away, Inkley swore he could feel eyes boring a hole into the back of his head.

* * *

 **Hello! I'm going to try and not make a habit of making author's notes like this. First of all, thanks for reading, and please excuse (and correct) any inaccuracies. I don't actually own a copy Splatoon (or a Wii-U… heh), but I'm working on getting it. I just couldn't help writing this, because it looks fantastic! Secondly, since I'm trying to cover the topic of growing up, this story will have a lot of puberty-related content, so, uh… Look out for that. Thanks again!**


	2. Booyah!

Inkley couldn't keep his hands off his Splattershot Jr. while Jet guided him back to her apartment. Just outside the building, however, Jet grabbed Inkley by his shoulder and manhandled him into the alley behind the apartment building.

"Hey, Squirt. I got something to show ya." Jet said, giving Inkley a sharp slap on the back.

Inkley nearly stumbled from the slap, and took a moment to recover. "What is it?"

Jet grinned from ear to ear, and shrugged. "Just wait. I know you'll like it." Jet gave Inkley a thumbs up and opened a metal door to the building. Halfway through the door, she stopped and glanced back to Inkley with a smirk. "Oh, try and make an ink puddle. It'll make things easier."

Inkley looked at Jet, wide-eyed. "I-ink puddle? But that's -" _Slam!_ "- embarrassing…"

Inkley gave a sigh, and looked around nervously. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him. The alleyway was fairly clean of trash and debris, but the walls were covered in graffiti. He wouldn't be doing any harm if he made a _small_ ink puddle… Inkley swallowed, looked around nervously once more, before closing his eyes and clenching every muscle in his body.

And then the change took over. The sensation was strange - it always was. It was only the fourth time Inkley had ever changed, and there was still a gnawing worry in the back of his head; _what if I can't change back? What if I'm stuck like this forever?_

Just the thought made Inkley want to ink himself on the spot. And _not_ the good kind of ink.

Inkley would have sighed were he able, but instead bubbled noisily, and clenched a muscle. Yellow-green ink began to pool beneath him, and after a moment, Inkley began to sink into it. Being surrounded by his own ink was refreshing, the goopy liquid cool on his skin. The pool increased in size, and Inkley swirled himself around within it, creating a miniature whirlpool.

"Having fun, Squirt?"

Inkley froze. He immediately began shifting back to his humanoid form, eventually landing on his knees. Jet smirked down at Inkley, and it took him a moment to realize his sister was carrying quite an armful. Over her shoulder, Jet had an empty, cylindrical glass tank, and in one arm, she carried what seemed to be a rifle-bag.

Inkley blinked. "What're those?"

"An ink-tank, for you Splattershot."Jet slipped the tank off with one hand, and set it down in front of Inkley. "Aaaaand…" Jet shot Inkley a self-assured grin, and set the bag in her arm down. "My charger."

Inkley slid closer as Jet unbagged her splat charger. Inkley could only watch in wonder as Jet withdrew the sleek form of her rifle. It was varying shades of blue, with the main body of the gun being very light, while a grip, which curved from under the body up onto the top rail, was a much darker blue.

"Squiffer." Jet said at a moment. "Classic edition." She added quickly.

"Cool." Inkley said absently, staring at the rifle unabashedly.

Jet shook her head. "You got your own,Squirt." She gave her Squiffer an appreciative pat. "This one's mine." Pointing at the empty tank sitting on the ground, Jet motioned at the pool of ink Inkley was crouching in. "Fix the hose on that tank onto your Splattershot. It just screws right in. Then strap that puppy on your back. I'm gonna teach you the basics of _paintin'_."

Inkley nearly fumbled his gun as he reached for the hose. It took a moment, but he found the proper port for the hose, and screwed it in. Testing the connection with a small tug, Inkley looked back up to Jet, and shot her a thumbs up. Jet nodded approvingly as Inkley strapped the tank to his back. It seemed awkwardly large on his small frame, but Jet knew he could handle it.

"Alright, so, that's your ink-tank." Jet said casually as she withdrew a much thinner tank from her bag. She busied herself with attaching it to her Squiffer while she talked. "The good ones change with you when you turn into a squid, so you can keep a solid speed. That's one of the good ones. And oldie but a goodie." Jet smiled wistfully, but shook it off a moment later. "When you're in a puddle, the tank refills. When you're out of ink, no splatting for you."

Inkley frowned. "I know all this. I've watched turf-wars on TV."

"But you've never handled the actual equipment," Jet replied quickly, "so I get to lecture you. Deal with it." Jet pointed at the puddle at Inkley's feet. "So, fill up, Squirt."

Inkley frowned thoughtfully, but said nothing as Jet shrugged on her own ink-tank. Inkley's features contorted as he reverted back into a squid, and idly wondered how the ink his tank _changed with him_. He didn't ask, though, for fear of sounding dumb. Oddly enough, Jet mimicked Inkley's actions, turning into a squid as a pool of purple formed beneath her.

Inkley was drawn out of his thoughts as he heard a plain _ding!_ Gathering the will, he shifted back to his humanoid form, and found himself kneeling in his own ink a second later. The tank lashed to his back sloshed with green ink, and Inkley couldn't help but grin.

"Cool." He muttered.

"Isn't it, though?" Jet replied, suddenly back in her humanoid form. "All this tech's so sweet, it boggles your mind, huh?" With a grin, Jet pointed a finger at Inkley's Splattershot Jr., and then jerked a thumb at the wall opposite the apartment building. "Right. So, now that your gun's full, fire a few shots at that wall. Let's see if that thing handles like I remember."

Inkley gave a nod, determined to learn. He glanced at the shooter in his hands, and inhaled. His finger depressed the trigger.

And the Splattershot Jr. fired, while bucking like a mad seahorse. It took all of Inkley's strength to keep the wild shots from flying over the wall and repainting the neighbor's house. After a short burst, Inkley let go of the trigger and dropped his Splattershot.

Jet's grin was still firm on her face. "Yup. _Juuuust_ like I remember." She gave Inkley a pat on the back. "I lost it when I first fired a Splattershot Jr., too. Funny, the Junior kicks like crazy. You'd think a kid's gun would be easy to handle." Jet lifted her charger to her shoulder, and simply grinned wider. "Watch this."

Inkley heard a sound straight out of science fiction. A small beam of light came from Jet's Squiffer, aimed at the center of one of the splats Inkley's wild barrage had created. Then, it fired.

The Squiffer left a trail of purple ink from where Jet was standing to where the laser had been pointing. Inkley stared.

"That was _sweet_!" He exclaimed. "Do it again!"

Jet grinned and shook her head. "Nah, Squirt. You've got to work on your shot. You're a long way from being a pro." Jet crouched, and wrapped an arm around Inkley's shoulders. "But, Squirt? I'm gonna take ya there."

Suddenly, Inkley was very worried about Jet's grin.

* * *

Inkley would have thrown the ink-tank across the room were it not so fragile. Instead, he slid it off his shoulders, and slumped back onto Jet's couch. With a sigh, he wiped a glob of ink from his forehead and flicked it away.

"C'mon, do you need to get ink all over my couch?" Jet asked, crossing her arms.

"It'll go away."

"But that shade of green is _gross_."

"Hey! That's _my_ shade of green!"

"And _you're_ gross, Squirt."

Inkley huffed and crossed his arms. Jet flopped down beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She gave her brother a little shake, and snatched up a remote from the small table in front of the couch.

"Let's see what's on the tele." Jet said. With the press of a button, the television across the room flicked on.

Immediately, Callie and Marie, Inkopolis' idol duo, the Squid Sisters, appeared on screen. They were standing in front of the Booyah Base, Callie looking as excited as ever, while Marie was calm as usual. Strangely enough, the entire plaza around her seemed to be painted a variety of colors. Ink dripped from every building, and even the windows to the shops weren't spared the splatter.

"-and as a result, the entirety of the plaza was covered in a rainbow of ink under an hour!" Callie said, motioning to the scene behind her. Dozens of inklings were gathered in the plaza, most of them waving wildly into the camera.

"The painters were _so_ thorough, barely an inch of the plaza escaped inking." Marie added. She motioned to the Squid Sisters' own studio, and the building beside it, both of which were just as covered ink as everything else. The only thing _not_ totally splattered was the Inkopolis Tower. "Even our studio wasn't spared an inking."

Callie laughed and shrugged. "I'm sure a few sweethearts will be willing to clean it up for us. And, despite the mess, almost all the faces here are smiling. With a hard day or two of clean up, the shops will be back open, and this incident will be nothing more than a fond memory." Callie turned her back to the camera, and gave the group of inklings an enthusiastic wave. Turning back to the camera, her smile only widened. "For those who _don't_ work here, at least."

" _Staaaaay fresh_!"

Jet sat up, resting her elbows on her knees. "Oh, what? They splattered the _whole_ Booyah Base? And _I_ wasn't there?" With a huff, Jet rested her chin on her palm. "Inkers…"

Inkley blinked. He sat up as well, and looked at Jet. "They… painted Booyah Base…?"

Jet hesitated for a moment. "Yeah… Wait!" She turned to look at Inkley. "You've never been to the plaza before, have you Squirt?" She bolted to her feet. "C'mon, we've got a busy day!" Without waiting for a response, Jet turned off the TV and snatched for Inkley's wrist.

"Mom took me there before!" Inkley said quickly, trying to pry his wrist free.

"Were you a big, grown-up boy then?"

Inkley paused. "N-no..." He blinked. "But... weren't you tired?"

"Screw naps! We can go play in _ink_!" Jet replied hastily. "Maybe Callie and Marie will still be out in the plaza, too! That'd be _sooo_ cool."

Running out of excuses, Inkley resigned himself to his fate. Jet dragged him towards the door, despite the fact that both of them were still covered in splotches of their own ink.

* * *

Inkley looked at the window as the train approached the Plaza station. The train car was fairly packed with inklings, and a handful of jellyfish. Inkley was pressed against the wall of his seat, with Jet sitting next to him, while a jellyfish busily flipping through a newspaper hovered not a foot away. The car was absolutely buzzing with chatter, a large deal of which was about the freshly painted plaza.

 _We're not the only ones here to see it._ Inkley thought, watching as Inkopolis Tower grew larger and larger in his view.

" _Now stopping at Inkopolis Plaza station._ " And a minute later, the train came to a halt.

At least three quarters of the passengers stood as the doors slid open. Inkley was pressed on all sides as the exiting passengers shuffled out en masse. The crowd in the boarding area was so thick with those coming and going that Jet had to grasp at Inkley's wrist to keep him from getting caught up in the tide of bodies.

Eventually, the siblings made it through the press of bodies, winding up on the very edge of Inkopolis plaza. True to Callie's words, Booyah Base had been covered in ink from top to bottom, and even a large portion of the plaza had been splattered. Strangely enough, the Squid Sisters' studio was almost spotless, and the Battle Dojo was almost completely clean as well. Half a dozen inklings busily scrubbed at the pavement, or squeegeed windows on the Booyah Base, while nearly triple that watched them with amused looks on their faces.

"Look at that!" Jet exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. "They really did it. And they've gotta clean it up, too. You know, I think, if I had the choice, I would've…"

Inkley stopped listening as Jet went on. He scanned the faces of the inklings in the crowd, and for some reason, felt like he saw familiar faces, despite knowing better. Inkley simply couldn't shake the feeling.

Inkley was broken from his reverie when Jet nudged his shoulder. "You still with me, Squirt?"

Inkley looked up at Jet. "What?"

Jet chuckled and shook her head. "Alright, listen up. I'm gonna give you a rundown of this place." Jet crouched, and placed a hand on Inkley's shoulder. She pointed towards the Booyah Base. "That's the Base, as I'm sure you know. The really big shops are there. Ammo Knights, Cooler Heads, Jelly Fresh, and Shrimp Kicks. "They're _the_ freshest shops in the city, Squirt. And all the freshest folks shop there." Jet hesitated, before adding "But, uh… They're also kind of… _judgmental_. If they don't think you're fresh enough for their store, you'll get kicked out."

 _Well, that's rude. Maybe they_ deserve _to have their stores splattered,_ Inkley thought with a frown.

"But don't worry about that, Squirt." Jet told him with a cocky grin. "I'll have you so fresh, the whole city will be copying your style. The style _I_ set out for you, of course." Jet shook her head. "But, back to where we were. Coolers Heads, the hat shop, is run by Annie. Real sweet girl, has a cap to fit every head. Great hair, by the way. Got a partner named Moe. Steer clear of him. Jelonzo runs Jelly Fresh, the clothes store. He's kinda… Off, but he's still one of the freshet jellies you'll ever meet. Sheldon runs Ammo Knights. If you need something splattered, you'll be stopping at Ammo Knights sooner or later. Sheldon's pretty geeky, but if it shoots or splats ink, Sheldon can make it or fix it. And finally, Crusty Sean runs Shrimp Kicks. Best shoe store in the city. Crusty Sean isn't the smartest guy, but he's really friendly once you get to know him." Jet pointed to the other side of the plaza, towards the Squid Sisters' studio. "And, of course, Callie and Marie's studio, plus the Battle Dojo. Folks go there to train for turf-wars."

Inkley did his best to store this information away, but there was still one thing he didn't quite understand. "Why are you telling me all this?"

Jet smiled knowingly, and looked at Inkley like he was some kind of idiot. "Being in the know is almost as important as being fresh, Squirt." Jet stood suddenly, and stretched with a noisy groan. After a moment of thought, she dug through a pocket and pulled out a coin. She slapped it into Inkley's palm. "Go get yourself a soda or something. I'm gonna go talk someone. Be back in a few."

Inkley called after Jet as she walked towards the shops, heedless of the ink she strode through to get to them. Inkley sighed in defeat, closed his fist around the coin he had been given, and looked around. Spotting a vending machine across the plaza, next to an alley, Inkley made his way around the mess and the crowd, and eventually found himself staring at an assortment of buttons indicating just as many beverage choices. Inkley slid his coin into the slot, after a moment's thought, pressed button with his thumb. The machine hummed in response, and a colorful can thumped down into the opening at the bottom. Inkley retrieved his drink, and found an unpainted patch of ground to sit himself down on, leaning against the wall behind him.

Inkley spared a glance at his drink, a can of _Splatberry Punch_. The logo was stylized to look as though it had been sloppily painted on, while a moderately attractive, fully-grown inkling woman rode a surfboard on a multicolored wave of what was presumably ink. Inkley opened the can, satisfied with the hiss it produced, and took a deep drink. Setting the can down beside him, Inkley looked back to the crowd, and noticed something he had missed earlier. He spotted an inkboy with an orange shirt on,busily scrubbing at the pavement with a large broom. In the center of his chest was a familiar logo; a tangerine with tentacles. _There sure is a lot of orange ink out there…_ Were the Tangerines a part of the mass-inking?

Inkley's heart suddenly began racing. _Could she be here?_ He wasn't sure if he to see her here or not. His body and mind were at war now, with his mind telling him he'd surely embarrass himself, while his body reminded him of something. She was _really_ pretty.

Inkley was startled as he heard the sound of someone drinking through a straw. Inkley looked to his left and realized that Luma had taken a seat beside him, and was drinking from a colorful cup. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, and a smile formed on her lips.

"Hey." She said after a moment.

"H-hey…" Inkley replied quietly. "You, uh… Startled me."

"Yeah. I do that sometimes."

And then there was a long silence. Both Inkley and Luma looked out towards the mess.

"So, I saw you earlier." Luma said suddenly.

"Y-yeah? I, uh, saw you, too."

Luma finally looked directly at Inkley. "You had a Splattershot with you. And you've got some ink on you, now."

Inkley felt a knot form in his stomach as her dark eyes locked with his. "S-so…?"

"It kinda seems like you might have helped paint the plaza."

"W-well, I didn't!"

Luma smiled knowingly, and looked away again. She reclined against the wall, and shrugged. "Yeah. Me neither." She glances at him from the corner of her eyes. "I'm Luma, by the way."

"I'm Inkley."

They sat in another session of uncomfortable silence. Inkley tried to make himself more comfortable by taking a sip from his drink, but found that it didn't help in the slightest. Inkley glanced at Luma from the corner of his eye, and noticed that she looked as cool as a sea-cucumber. Either the silence didn't bother her or she was incredibly good at hiding it.

"Hold on a second." Luma eventually said, her voice almost a whispered. She took a small, crumpled piece of paper and a pen from her pocket, and quickly wrote something down. She stood and balled the paper back up, before sliding the pen back into her pocket. With one hand, she tossed the paper into Inkley's lap, and with the other, she drank noisily.

"See you around, Inkley." She said, adding a not-so-subtle wink as she strolled away. After a moment, she disappeared in the crowd.

Inkley watched as she disappeared, utterly dumbfounded. After a moment, he remembered the paper she had given him, and he hurried to uncrumple it. Inkley wasn't surprised when he saw that one side of it was a receipt for a smoothie. On the other side, however, was something that both excited and terrified him. He crushed it back up and hastily jammed it into his pocket.

Inkley scanned the crowd for anything that could distract him. Across the plaza, he saw Jet talking with a diminutive girl with a massive head of hair. It took him a moment to realize that the short girl was Annie. Looking closer, Inkley realized that there was something small floating in Annie's hair. And then it moved. _It couldn't be… Could it?_ Annie's so-called partner was a fish! And he _lived in her hair!_

Suddenly, Jet looked very frustrated - upset, even. She waved her hands in the air, shouted something, and then stormed off. She made her way through the crowd, back towards Inkley, nearly knocking over several others in the process. Inkley downed the rest of his drink, and tossed the empty can into a nearby trashcan. As Jet approached, Inkley could tell she wasn't genuinely upset, instead throwing one of the fits she occasionally had.

"Ooh, that Moe _really_ sets me off sometimes!" Jet exclaimed. "I don't understand why a girl like Annie lets him hang around!" She didn't wait for Inkley's response, but instead started making her way towards the train station. "C'mon, Squirt. It's time for me to take you home."

Inkley had to run to catch up with Jet. "What do you mean?" He asked quickly.

"Mom called earlier today. While you were napping, actually." Jet's usual grin reappeared after a moment. "She said she wanted you back home by tonight. It's getting kinda late. We're gonna stop off at my place to pick up your stuff, and then I'm taking you home."

Inkley knew arguing was useless. As much as Jet irritated him, he liked his weekend stays at her apartment. But mom's word was law. His head hung in defeat.

"Alright." Was all he said.

"Oh, relax, Squirt." Jet told him with a playful slug on the shoulder. "You can come back next weekend, and we can make even more of a mess."

Inkley gave her his best smile, but next weekend might as well have been a lifetime away. He had plenty on his plate up until then thanks to the message Luma had given him.

 _Meet me here tomorrow night, at 11. Bring your shooter. And money._


	3. Little Rebel

Inkley shifted awkwardly on the train seat, careful to not knock over his bag, which contained not only two changes of clothes and hygiene items, but also his shooter and its tank. Many of those items also happened to still have splotches of green on them. Jet had taken him back to her apartment to wash up and pack his things, and then they had boarded the train. Of course, she teased him for _inking all over_. But, despite it all, today had been a great day, and he thoroughly enjoyed the weekend he had spent with Jet. Inkley would have been wearing a dumb grin, were it not for the crumpled note in his pocket. It felt like a brick sat in his stomach.

 _What could she possibly want? Why me? Should I actually go?_ These questions and more flew through Inkley's head as the train rode on. This car was practically empty compared to the one they had taken to the plaza, giving both Jet and Inkley their own seats. Jet sat across from Inkley, busily tapping away at her phone, undoubtedly texting Zoom or Synthia. Inkley was, for once, very thankful that Jet was seemingly addicted to her phone, or else she might actually notice how distressed Inkley was.

The quiet ride, at the very least, gave Inkley time to think. He gaze out the window, watching the cityscape of Inkopolis rush by as the train went on, only absent holding his bag from toppling onto the floor. The ride went by much faster than Inkley would have expected, and before he realized, Jet gave him a slap on the shoulder to stir him.

"Hey, Squirt." Jet said. "C'mon. We're here."

Jet and Inkley exited the train, and walked away from the station at a casual pace. The sun was sinking on the horizon now, mostly hidden by the tall buildings of Inkopolis. Inkley finally recognized the area they were in now; they were fairly close his neighborhood. It was just a short walk to his street, in fact. But Jet was in no rush, walking with her hands stuffed into her pockets, looking around absently. Inkley would be lying to himself if he said he was eager to get home. When he got home, he knew time would pass quickly. And then it would be tomorrow, and he would have a choice to make.

Just a few minutes later, however, they were on Inkley's street. For nearly all his life, this street was all Inkley had ever known. Jet led the way down the street, while Inkley followed close behind her, still lugging his heavy bag. A small squid squirmed about in a small kiddie-pool full of ink, and splashed happily as Inkley passed. The squid's father smiled and nodded. Inkley waved at the little squid, who spat a gout of ink and made a delighted noise.

And suddenly, Inkley was home. He slowed down to look at his home. His house wasn't very special. It was a plain, two-story building, with mint-green siding and an black-shingled roof. Jet had the door open by the time Inkley had caught up to her, and he realized that the door wasn't locked. _Mom must be home_.

"Kids?" A voice called.

"Hi mom!" Both Jet and Inkley called back.

A moment later, a figure familiar to both inklings appeared through the doorway to the left that led to the kitchen. Distinctly feminine, with what one might call a "motherly" build, this inkling was barely an inch shorter than Jet. Her tentacles, tied behind her head and cascading down onto her back, were a deep blue, while her eyes, a striking amber, watched Jet and Inkley welcomingly. She wore an azure, long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black pants, much baggier than the kind most younger inklings wore. Her feet were bare.

"Hey, kids." Their mother said, a small smile on her face. She looked at Inkley and crossed her arms. "Did you have fun? You're all full up on adventure now, right?" She shifted a hand to her hip. "You're going to spend the rest of your life letting your dear mother take care of you, aren't you?"

Inkley felt heat rise in his cheeks. "It _was_ fun. I can't wait to spend more time at Jet's."

His mother's smile only grew. "After your fifteenth birthday, right?"

" _Moooom…._ "

Both Jet and their mother laughed as Inkley huffed crossed his arms. _Both of them always pushed his buttons…_ Jet gave Inkley a pat on the shoulder, and pushed him towards the stairs on the right side of the hallway.

"Go put your stuff away." She told him.

Inkley sighed, but did as he was told, trotting up the stairs with his bag slung over a shoulder.

"And bring down your dirty clothes!" His mother called after him.

Inkley followed the hall to the end, ignoring the doors on both sides - the bathroom on the left and Jet's old room, now empty, on the right - and opened the door at the end of the hall, on the left side. His room wasn't too big, but it was set up to be as comfy for a boy his age as possible. His bed was to his immediate right, tucked into the corner. Beside it, against the wall, was his desk, with his computer on top of it, and beside _that_ , was a small trash can. The computer was, undoubtedly, the nicest thing Inkley could call his own, and was a joint gift from most of his relatives for his birthday. Tucked into the far right corner was a black dresser, nearly as tall as Inkley with four drawers. On the far side of the room was a window that looked out onto the street. A few feet away from the window, on the left wall, was his closet, with one of its sliding doors open, completely empty, excluding the shelf, which had a single shoebox on it. Next to the closet was a clothes hamper, filled with dirty shirts and shorts. The walls were a muted gray-blue, and relatively clean.

Inkley recalled that, not more than a month ago, the walls were white, unpainted so that his messes as a squid wouldn't stain anything. The room was redecorated in anticipation of his birthday. _Speaking of his birthday…_ Inkley paused to close the door behind him, and, like usual, felt his heart race a bit. Tacked to the inside of his door was a poster of the Squid Sisters. Of course, this was no _ordinary_ poster. The Squid sisters were both wearing bikinis, and in rather risque poses. Inkley had been gifted this, _on the side_ , by an uncle who tried very hard to _stay fresh_. At the same time, the poster made him want to throw up and excited him. With a familiar knot in his stomach, Inkley was suddenly reminded of Luma…

Very aware of the flutter of his heart and the heat in his cheeks, Inkley shook the thoughts from his head and walked to his closet. He pulled all of the ink-stained clothes from his bag, haphazardly tossing them behind him, but left his shooter in, and set the bag in the closet. He was sure his mother wouldn't go looking through his things. Sliding the door closed, he turned away and remembered he was supposed to bring his clothes down. _And they were all still covered in ink._ Inkley suddenly panicked, scooped up his dirty clothes, and hurriedly jammed them into the bottom of his clothes hamper. Grunting as he wrapped one arm around the hamper, he opened the door and went to the stairs.

But stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Jet and their mother talking.

"-nothing too hard on him, right?" His mother said.

"No, mom. All we did was hang out. We went to lunch with Zoom and Synthia. Oh! I took him to see the Booyah Base, too."

"The Booyah Base? Jet, there were a bunch of hooligans there today!"

"Could have fooled me. Looked totally normal."

"Oh, come on Jet. I watch the news. I'm not _that_ out of touch."

" _Excuse_ me, for trying to break him out of his shell." If Inkley had to guess, Jet's arms would have been crossed as she delivered this line.

"There's a difference between getting him out of his shell, and overwhelming him."

"Give him more credit than that, mom. You know what happened today? Inkley _checked out_ a girl. I'm pretty sure it's the first time he's ever done that. He even-"

Inkley, deciding this conversation had gone on long enough, moved towards the stairs. " _Mom_!"

There was a moment of silence. "Yes, dear?"

"Where do you want my clothes?"

"The _laundry room_ , dear."

Inkley didn't even care that his asking made him look like an idiot. He didn't like where the conversation was going. Both Jet and his mother looked somewhat distressed, though Jet tried to dismiss Inkley's curious look by huffing and stuffing her hands into her pockets.

Indeed, Inkley was so focused on trying to read his sister that he missed the bottom step and stumbled. His arms windmilled, and the laundry hamper went flying, spilling dirty clothes all over the hall. Inkley barely managed to catch himself on the wall, but was helpless to watch as his dirty clothes - including his ink-splotched clothes - went on to litter the hall.

"Inkley, are you alright, dear?" His mother asked, passing Jet to move towards him.

"Y-yeah, fine." Inkley replied, hurrying to collect his clothing. And his mother joined him. For a scarce few moments, Inkley thought that maybe she wouldn't notice.

"Inkley… Why are some of these… _inked_?" His mother asked quietly.

Inkley knew he was blushing. "Um… I-I... " He looked past his mother to see Jet, a horrified look on her face. "I kind of… had an accident at Jet's…" He said, looking away and scratching his arm sheepishly. "I… had _the dream_ again…" He added quietly, his blush only deepening.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Inkley…" She gave a maternal smile, and at once, Inkley felt better. "You clean this up, and I'll go finish dinner." She winked. "We're having spaghetti!" With a peck on the top of Inkley's head, she was gone.

Jet slid up beside Inkley as he cleaned up his mess. "You're the best, you know that?"

Inkley smiled up at her. "Yeah. I know."

Jet snorted with laughter and slapped her brother's shoulder. "Conceited much?" Her tone dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, what's this _dream_?"

"None of your business!" Inkley hissed, his blush returning with a vengeance.

"Oh, was it… _that_ kind of dream?" Jet asked, looking at Inkley expectantly. When she got no answer, she crossed her arms and leaned in with a smirk. "Was it about, I don't know… _The Squid Sisters_?"

Inkley paused, blinking suddenly. His tentacles went from green to pink in an instant, but he was determined not to give in. "Wh-what..?"

"Oh, come on, Squirt." Jet whispered. " _Everyone_ has a crush on Callie and Marie." She shrugged, and almost offhandedly added "Plus, I saw the poster on your door, when I came to pick you up. Zoom had one, too. I made him get rid of it." She grinned at Inkley. "Mom doesn't know about it, does she?"

Inkley huffed indignantly. " _Leave me alone, Jet!"_ He hissed.

Jet stepped away from Inkley and sighed. "Yeah… You _did_ cover for me.." She chuckled and shrugged again. "I _guess_ I can let you slide."

Inkley turned away from Jet, and continued to pick up his loose clothing. Jet put a hand on his shoulder and pointed to the small table near the front door. Inkley realized a pair of his boxers were on the table, and he hurried to snatch them up before the inevitable teasing ensued. With all his clothes gathered, Inkley shuffled off towards the back of the house, turning to the left at the very end of the hall, into the laundry room.

The washer was on the right side, the dryer on the left. In the far right corner of the room was the door that led to the backyard. The room itself was very bland, with a white wall, white tiles on the floor, and no decoration whatsoever. With a shrug, Inkley set the hamper down and hurried back to the kitchen.

The kitchen was modestly sized, with just enough room for two to stand shoulder-to-shoulder across, but having much more space lengthwise. The walls were plain white and undecorated save for the cabinets on the right, and a single sign on the left that read " _Home is where the food is"_ , hanging neatly beside a plain, if broad, wooden cabinet, which Inkley knew was full of canned and other packaged foods. On the right wall was the counter, complete with alcoves for the stove, which was black with a rather shiny finish, and the dishwasher, which was gray with a matte finish. Cabinets hung above the counter, and left plenty of space below it as well. The sink filled the space between the stove and the dishwasher. On the far edge of the counter was the sleek white microwave that Inkley had, until just recently, been barred from touching. Just beside the microwave, tucked next to the counter, was the fridge, shiny-gray, with the refrigerator and freezer splitting the whole thing down the middle. At the far end of the kitchen was a square table, pushed up against the wall, right below the only window in the kitchen. The table was big enough to seat five, with all chairs filled.

Jet was already there, busily routing through the fridge. Their mother multi-tasked, switching between stirring a pot and a saucepan every few seconds. Judging from the smell, dinner _was_ almost ready.

"Inkley, dear, set the table, would you?"

Inkley nodded absently, and went to the cabinet where he knew the plates were kept.

But he paused as he reached up to open it. "Two plates, or three?"

His mother hesitated. "Jet, you're staying for dinner, aren't you?"

Jet shrugged absently as she removed a plastic bottle filled with fizzy brown liquid from the fridge. "Huh? Free food? Yeah."

Inkley's tongue stuck out from the corner of as he concentrated on fishing three plates from the upper cabinet. He set his free hand on the laminated counter-top to balance himself, and after a moment, grinned at his own success as he closed the cabinet and moved to set the plates down on the table. The silverware followed, and Inkley put his fists on his hips and allowed himself to be satisfied.

And not five minutes later, they were sitting around the table, eating. Inkley sat against the right wall, while his mother sat across from him, and Jet sat to his left.

"So, what did you and Jet do over the weekend?" His mother asked, attempting to sound as off-handed as possible.

Inkley took a moment to slurp up the noodles hanging on his chin before answering through a half-full mouth. "We watched a bunch of TV, moshtly." He slurred. After chewing and swallowing, he added "Jet took me to see the Booyah Base, too. That was fun."

Jet grinned, and despite having food in her mouth, chimed in. "Told ya. We had a great time."

Their mother huffed. "Can't you two finish what's in your mouths before you talk?"

Jet's grin only widened. "Oh, come on, mom! We _love_ your cooking, what else can we say?"

Inkley could do little but nod as he continued to eat. He found himself eventually forced out of the conversation as his mother and sister made idle chatter, mostly relating to work and money. _They always talk about that._ Inkley didn't pay much attention as they talked, and instead finished his food. Suddenly, with a clean plate, he stood.

"May I be excused?" He asked. When his mother gave him a nod, Inkley hurried to the sink, rinsed his plate, set it down, and hurried off towards his room.

As he left, he heard Jet's chair scrape back as she stood. "I should probably get going, actually. I told Zoom I'd…" Her voice trailed off as Inkley went up the stairs.

As Inkley entered his room, he immediately went to his computer and turned it on. After a moment, the screen lit up, and Inkley realized he had a message.

And it was from Brine. " _You home yet?_ "

With just a cursory glance, Inkley could tell the message was a few hours old. Inkley seated himself at his desk, opened the messenger, and typed out a response.

" _Yeah. What's up?_ "

Fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye. Inkley rested his cheek on his fist, absently watching the monitor.

 _Ding_. " _So what happened?_ "

Inkley blinked at the screen. He straightened his posture. " _Jet gave me a Splattershot._ " He didn't have the heart to add _Junior_ to that.

" _Sweet. Can I come over tomorrow and see it?_ "

Inkley had to think about it. Chances were, his mother would be working tomorrow, but of course, he had plenty to deal with already. " _Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow. Maybe the day after?_ "

" _Alright, cool. Talk to you later._ "

Inkley would have replied, but he knew that Brine was already off doing something else. He spent some time on the web, and after realizing that it had finally gotten dark out, turned off the computer, flipped off the light, and crawled into bed.

He spent a long while simply staring at the ceiling, and, though he scolded himself every time, occasionally stealing a furtive glance at the poster on his door. Eventually, sleep took him.

* * *

At length, Inkley woke. He spent a few minutes sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a groan, he sat up, stretching lazily. After a moment, he exhaled and rose from his bed, disrobing and tossing his dirty clothes near where his hamper should have been without a second thought. Approaching his dresser, he opened the top drawer and withdrew a gray shirt. From the second drawer, a pair of black boxers, and the third, black shorts. In just another minute, he was fully dressed and ready to take on the day. Sending a cursory glance out the window, Inkley saw that it was fairly cloudy out. _I bet my gills it's gonna rain today._

Inkley yawned as he went downstairs. Shuffling into the kitchen, he saw his mother sitting at the table, sipping from a mug of what he presumed to be tea. She looked up at him and smiled as he entered.

"Good morning, dear." She told him.

"Morning mom." Inkley replied absently, routing through the cabinet for a box of cereal. He poured himself a bowl quickly, dumped a copious amount of milk into it, and fetched himself a spoon.

"You know I'm working today." His mother told him.

Inkley looked to her and nodded, grunting in response as he chewed a spoonful of cereal.

"Alright, sweetie." After a moment, she stood, taking her mug with her. "I'll be going soon."

"'Kay," Inkley said, swallowing his mouthful. "Have a nice day."

His mother smiled down at him. "You too, dear." She leaned down and kissed the top of his head.

Inkley sat down as his mother left the room. He finished his breakfast a few minutes later, and as he exited the kitchen, his mother was at the front door, a messenger bag slung over her shoulder.

"I'm going now. Be safe, have a good day sweetie!"

Inkley waved as she left. He waited several moments after the door closed, and exhaled. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath. He went back up to his room, flopped down on his bed, and sighed. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Time eventually passed. It started raining at noon, and kept going all day. Even half past ten, it still poured. Inkley's mother came home at half past seven. Nothing else had happened. Inkley didn't get any messages. The day was utterly dull, but still, Inkley couldn't help but be excited. As the given time drew near, he got the jitters. Just as Inkley was working up the courage to sneak out, he heard a knock on the door.

"Yes?" He called nervously.

"Inkley, dear, isn't it past your bedtime?" His mother returned, cracking the door to poke her head through.

Inkley swallowed. "Y-yeah, mom. I was just…. I dunno." He gave her a half-hearted smile. "I'll go to sleep now."

"Good night, sweetie."

"Good night…"

And then the door closed again. For a moment, Inkley considered actually going to sleep. Then, Luma appeared in his mind, her confident posture, her expectant stare, _her body_ … Inkley shook the thought from his head, and with a heavy sigh, stood from his bed. He took his bag from the closet, checked to make sure his shooter was still in there, and went to his dresser. Sliding open the second drawer, he dug through his boxers, and fished out the coins he had been told to bring. Looking out the window, he realized it was still pouring. Closing the drawer, he opened the very bottom one, and pulled out a black hoodie. Slipping it on over his head, he flipped the light off and moved towards the window, before realizing something.

He collected his dirty clothes, save for the boxers, wadded them up, and shoved them under his sheets, in hopes that, at a glance, it would look like he was sleeping. Satisfied, he went back to the window, opened it, and looked out. Rain pattered against his tentacles, and he suddenly realized how far up his room was. He pondered for several moments, before deciding the best course of action. He lowered his bag out as far as he could, and tossed it towards the grass. It hit the ground with a hefty _splat_ , but Inkley dearly hoped no one heard it.

Next was Inkley. His heart pounded in his ears as he lowered himself out of the window, and with all his might, pushed off, aiming for the grass beside his bag. In the excitement, Inkley almost forgot to change into a squid to cushion the blow. _That would have hurt._ The landing still took all the air from him, but just a few seconds after landing, Inkley was up, back in his humanoid form. He shrugged his bag on, pulled his hood up, and cast a furtive glance around. _All the lights are off…_

With that thought, Inkley took a deep breath and began his first ever rebellion.

* * *

The trip to Inkopolis Plaza was nerve-wracking, but uneventful. Inkley could make his way to train station on his own, and the fare was free. He, of course, got a few odd looks, but no one seemed to want to say anything. Though it seemed like forever, Inkley eventually saw the outline of Inkopolis Tower in the night sky. And not long after, the train came to a halt.

Inkley got off the train, the only occupant of the desolate train to get off on this particular stop. He wandered for a bit, following the signs, and found himself staring at the Booyah Base. But the plaza was just as empty as the train. Inkley felt his guts wrench. _Where was she? Maybe she was just playing a cruel trick?_

"You're late."

Inkley jumped, and quickly spun around. Luma was there, a bag very similar to his thrown over one shoulder. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, that same expectant look he remembered. She was wearing a dark red hoodie, but her hood was down.

Luma frowned suddenly. "Well?" She asked, putting a fist on her hip. "Why're you late?"

Inkley found that he couldn't meet her eyes. "I-I,uh… had to figure out how to sneak… out."

Luma just shrugged. One of her fingers stabbed towards Inkley's bag. "You bring everything?"

"Yeah." He replied. "Wh-what're we gonna do? Why'd I need money?"

Luma laughed, and Inkley suddenly decided that he liked her laugh _very much_. "The money's for snacks. Duh. And, what else would you use a shooter for?" Shaking her head, she snatched Inkley's hand, and pulled him towards an alley. "C'mon, we're already late."

Inkley wanted to say something, but found he couldn't. He didn't dare open his mouth for fear of throwing up. He let himself be led into the alley, and after a moment, Luma stopped, and pointed at an open sewer grate.

"This is where we're going." She said.

Inkley blinked. "Wh-what? Why?"

She just grinned at him. "You'll see." She didn't wait for a response, but instead crouched and dug hastily through her bag. She removed a rather plain, but obviously well-cared-for, Splattershot, as well as its tank. She strapped the tank onto her back, and tossed her bag into a nearby dumpster. "Don't worry about your stuff. We all keep our things in there while we're down below."

Inkley was hesitant, but with nothing more than Luma's expectant stare, he found himself following her lead. He tossed his now-empty bag into the dumpster, and looked to her for guidance.

"Now…" Luma gave Inkley a sudden look, one that was flirtatious, excited, even _predatory_ , all at once. "Catch me if you can." And she fell backwards, suddenly transforming into a squid.

Inkley shouted as she fell, but she slipped right through the grate like it wasn't there. He was terrified and thrilled at the same time. After a moment's hesitation, he followed her, reverting to squid form to pass through the grate.

Wind rushed past him as he fell into the darkness. He heard a collection of voices, all excited. And then _her's_.

"Come on, _Inkley…_ " It was softer than the other voices, but it was one of the most clear things he had ever heard in his life.

With his heart pounding, Inkley fell towards the siren's song.

 **I want to make this quick. Thank you, everyone who's reading this. This story hit 1,700 views not too long ago. I never expected this to become so popular, so thanks again for reading.**


	4. New Kid

The first thing Inkley noticed was how much darker it was down here. He could barely make out the shapes of other inklings and their brightly colored tentacles. Next, the air rushing past him was cool, far cooler than the air above the grate. Inkley fell for longer than he thought possible, and hit cold, wet concrete with an audible _slap_. The shock of the landing startled Inkley directly into his humanoid form, and he found the air pushed from his lungs.

"Is he dead?"

Something pressed into Inkley's side. He groaned and squirmed in response.

"The new kids always mess up the landing."

"Someone check his pockets."

There was a brief moment when the voices - all of them unfamiliar - blended together. And then a pair of feet stepped directly into Inkley's view, and the voices from his attention. His eyes traveled up the legs, and he eventually found Luma crouching before him, staring down.

"You alright?"

Inkley groaned again, but rose to his knees. He placed both hands on his thighs and doubled over in an attempt to catch his breath.

"Hey. _Are you alright?_ " Inkley suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, but was only vaguely aware that it belonged to Luma.

"Alright, alright," A new voice called. It was masculine, and held a casual authority that drew the attention of the gathered inklings. "Give the new guy some breathing room." After a moment, the group loosened and dispersed, going off in pairs and trios. Inkley could hear a new pair of feet approach.

Luma frowned. "Get up." She said quietly, and as Inkley clumsily tried climbing up, she hooked an arm beneath his and helped pull him to his feet.

Once on his feet, Inkley turned to look at the approaching inkling.

He stood three or four inches taller than Inkley, looked fairly athletic, and had to be at least sixteen. His tentacles were electric blue, and let down. His eyes were bright blue, strikingly similar to his tentacles. He wore a deep purple jacket that looked like it was water-repellent, as well as a rather standard pair of black shorts. On his feet was a pair of black and purple sneakers. But all that was in the back of Inkley's mind as he stared at the impressive roller slung over the boy's shoulder. His free hand was crammed into a jacket pocket. Taking in the whole image, Inkley realized this boy seemed to be a perfect representation of Inkopolis youth.

 _Geez, this guy should be in commercials or something…_

"Hey Luma." He said with an easy smile.

Luma crossed her arms and stared at the boy with undisguised hostility. " _Blue_."

"Who's the new guy?"

"How about you _ask_ him? _He's right here_."

The boy, _Blue_ , paused and frowned, but his smile quickly returned. He looked at Inkley. "Hey. I'm Clay, but most kids just call me Blue."

"I'm Inkley."

"So, you're a friend of Luma's?" Blue asked.

"Y-yeah." Inkley sent a glance over his shoulder at Luma, who was busily fiddling with her shooter.

He laughed and shook his head. "She probably didn't tell you much about all this, right? Just dragged you here with your gear." Inkley could do little but nod dumbly. "Yeah." He exhaled, and then his voice dropped down. "She does this to a lot of kids. Brings 'em down here and leaves them to fend for themselves." He looked at Inkley from the corner of his eye. "Anyway, we all come down here to just… _Have fun,_ you know? No rules, besides don't hurt anybody. Just good, ink-covered fun." He gave Inkley a solid slap on the back and laughed. "I'm sure you'll fit right in!"

Suddenly, Luma appeared in between them, looking very much upset. "If you're _done_ , I've got to show him around."

"Just trying to be friendly to the new kid." Blue replied, putting a hand up innocently.

"Go be friendly to someone else." Luma snapped back. "This one's _mine_." Without waiting for a response, she snatched Inkley's wrist and pulled him in the opposite direction.

Inkley looked over his shoulder as he was pulled along, and saw Blue standing there. Everything about him seemed different, his posture, his expression. He was no longer the welcoming ring-leader. Inkley couldn't quite describe the look Blue had on his face, but it made him very uncomfortable.

"I inking _hate_ him!" Luma hissed as they rounded a corner.

"Wh-what?"

Luma suddenly released Inkley wrist. She turned away and crossed her arms.. "Blue. I can't stand him."

Inkley paused. "Why not..?" At first, Luma didn't respond. Inkley slowly reached a hand out towards her shoulder, and snatched it away when she turned around.

"Did you _see_ the way he was acting?" Luma replied angrily. "He's such a condescending ass!"

Inkley could do little but stare blankly at her. He felt like he was _supposed_ to say something, but didn't know what.

Luma sighed and shook her head. "You don't know him. Once you know him, you'll understand…" She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed again. "Never mind. I said I was gonna show you around. Come on."

Inkley blinked, and suddenly realized he was in a sewer. The walls were concrete, gray, but surprisingly clean. The ground was wet, but most of the water flowed into a channel cut into the very middle of the ground. It was narrow enough to step over and covered by grating with an inch or two between each bar. The water within the channel rushed ran the same way Luma seemed to be leading Inkley, and off in the distance, there seemed to be an indentation in the concrete, with three channels leading into it. All three emptied out into what seemed to be a black hole, covered by a particularly sturdy looking grate, with the gaps in between being so small, Inkley wondered if a squid could fall through…

"Don't worry about the water," Luma said suddenly, as if she read his mind. "You can't fall through those grates. Some of the ballsier, or dumber kids have tried. It's impossible."

Two paths opened up, one directly ahead, and another to the left. To the right was nothing but concrete wall, marked with graffiti. Some of the scrawlings were more legible than others, and he stopped to examine one for a moment. Luma stopped with him, and watched as he brushed his fingers across a green arrow near the corner of the wall, pointing to the pathway on the left.

"A lot of this stuff is from us." Luma said finally. "After a while, you'll get to leave your own mark, too." She stepped forward suddenly, and brought her hand up to where Inkley's was. Her fingers brushed the back of his palm as she pointed at the arrow. "We use different colors to say different things. The green arrows point towards exits." Turning around, she pointed at an orange one. "Orange points to the meeting area. That's the place just under the main entrance."

Luma stepped away from the wall, and motioned for Inkley to follow. They turned to the left, and Inkley suddenly felt very lost. The tunnel seemed to stretch forever, and the light was low enough that Inkley couldn't see past the second set of crossroads in the distance. He could, however, make out the flashes of color, the hurried, excited movement of other kids in the dark. They ran past, laughing and shouting, nearly all of them covered in a rainbow of colors. Luma led Inkley for quite some time, pointing out specific paths, notable patches of graffiti, or the occasional hiding spot, tucked away behind seemingly useless grates on the walls. At one point, Luma pointed out a ladder, against one of the walls. Rain poured through the grated manhole cover, and washed away to the nearest channel.

"This is one of the ladders that go topside. There's at least two more scattered around here. If you get lost, sometimes you're better off climbing up and finding your way back to the main entrance on the streets." Luma told him, jerking a thumb upwards for emphasis. After a moment, she put hand on her hip, idly aiming her shooter, empty as it was, at Inkley with her other hand. "I think that pretty much covers it. You'll get the hang of navigating as you go, but-"

Luma was interrupted by shrill laughter from around the corner. She grinned, stabbed a finger at Inkley, and then her thumb at herself. Catching the hint, Inkley followed her as she jogged towards the sound, apparently trying to be stealthy. She stopped at the corner, and peered to the left, before quickly jerking her head back and grinning even more.

"There are some kids there. They don't know we're here." She said quietly. "Fill up. We're gonna get 'em."

Inkley nodded, but waited for her to shapeshift first. He followed her lead after a moment, and several awkward seconds later, both of them resurfaced from their own ink, with nearly-full tanks. Luma waved for Inkley to follow her, and he did so, crouched over in an attempt to match her stealth. Of course, he couldn't, and his awkward stride barely kept pace with hers as the crept up behind a slim, red-tentacled girl with her back to them. Her friend, a blue-tentacled boy with a roller that looked too large for him, standing across the crossroads from her, saw them and stood.

"Look-" Was all he could get out before a torrent of orange ink went at him. He fell onto his rear, sputtering and laughing all the while.

The girl had fully turned around by the time Inkley realized he was supposed to be inking her. He turned his face away, raised his shooter, and depressed the trigger. It kicked, and ink flew everywhere. Yet the girl still got a shot off. Red paint slapped against Inkley's chest, and he flinched, sending his Splattershot Junior wide. For some reason, Inkley had expected getting inked to hurt. But it didn't; in fact, it almost felt pleasant.

" _Splat_!"

Inkley paused, as did the blue boy and the red girl. All three of them looked at Luma, who had a fresh coat of green ink up her left side.

"You inked _me_." She growled, looking at Inkley. The boy and girl both ran off down the same path, giggling at or with one another. "It's gonna be like that, is it?" She asked expectantly.

Inkley tried to stammer out an apology, but reeled backwards when orange ink splattered all over his face. He spat out a glob of ink and gasped, trying furiously to wipe ink out of his eyes.

"Two can play at that game!" Luma shouted, though Inkley could barely see her. "Catch me if you can!"

Inkley heard footsteps move away from him, and of course, when he could finally open his eyes, Luma was gone, running down the tunnel at full speed. He simply gawked at her for a moment, before shaking his daze off and giving chase. She stopped at a corner, glanced both ways, and turned around to face Inkley. She smirked at him, gave him an exaggerated wink, and bolted to the right. Rounding the corner, Inkley could immediately tell from the distance she had covered that she was far more athletic than him. He would never be able to properly keep pace with her.

Luma was about to cross another intersection when she ducked back behind the corner. Not a second later, a wave of purple ink painted the space she was just standing in. She leaned around the corner, sprayed a quick gout of ink, and then bolted across the tunnel to the other side, and blue ink painted a trail behind her, and a hooded inkling with a rather androgynous appearance peeked around the corner, looking directly at Inkley with a pleased look on their face. They rounded the corner with a charger raised, and after a moment, a solid line of pink ink took Inkley full on the chest, knocking him flat onto his rear. The inkling strode past Inkley, and gave him a playful salute.

"Better luck next time, cutie."

Inkley sat for a moment, wiping the pink from his hoodie, before standing and glancing around. Luma was casually strolling away, her shoot slung over one shoulder while her free hand was crammed into a pocket. She glanced back over her shoulder. " _You coming?_ " She mouthed.

Inkley huffed, and once again shook off his daze. He took off after Luma, who finally began running again. Passing the corner, Inkley glanced to the right and saw a red boy charging away from him recklessly, a hefty roller on the ground before him. A green duo ran from the roller, laughing and whooping with delight all the while. Turning his attention back to matters that concerned him, he skidded to a halt at the corner of a three-way intersection, and glanced both ways. Luma was moving at a full sprint down the left path, and Inkley let out a loud groan as he gave chase.

Though his legs were heavy, his chest heaved with each breath, and it felt like he was about the throw up, Inkley was surprised to find that he was almost keeping pace with Luma. Were it not for the others in the tunnels, often times catching both of them at moments that interrupted the chase, Luma would have undoubtedly been able to outrun Inkley. Inkley saw several of the same faces during the romp through the maze of tunnels, and in turn, inked and was inked by them.

What seemed like hours passed in a blur. Several others joined the chase on both sides, and it turned into a war. They fought for the intersections, painting the walls and one another a myriad of colors for the sake of making of a mess. At some point during the night, Inkley found himself running down a corridor, shoulder to shoulder with Blue, with the older boy painting the floor with his roller with Inkley sprayed forward, keeping another group of inklings tucked behind the safety of the corners.

Not too long after that, Inkley found himself screaming as he fled from Blue, desperately trying to avoid being rolled over. Two other inklings were ahead of him, and suddenly, both of them broke off, turning on their heels and sprinting down opposite paths, leaving Inkley alone, still running as fast as his tired legs would carry him. After a few moments, the path Inkley was on ended, and Inkley slid as he tried to turn to the right at a full sprint. He carried on running for another second, before realizing something. He eventually slowed down and stopped beside a ladder leading topside. A green arrow on the wall behind the ladder pointed upwards.

"I'm _alone_ …" Inkley said after a moment. Blue had stopped chasing him, undoubtedly in favor of going after someone who wasn't so awfully out of shape. Inkley doubled over, putting one hand on a rung of the ladder for support, and heaved out several shuddering breaths. " _Splat._ "

Inkley sat like that for a while, simply trying to catch his breath and wishing the ache in his legs would go away. He had no doubt that he'd be feeling this in the morning, and he would have a fun time trying to hide it from his mother. After a minute, he straightened up and exhaled. He sent a glance around and listened, trying to determine where others were, so he could join the fun. He was just about to set off towards the nearest shouting voice when something hit his shoulders and knocked him to the ground.

Inkley hit the floor with an _oomph_ , all the air pressed from his lungs as weight bore down on the small of his back.

" _Hiya._ " Luma hissed into Inkley's ear. Though Inkley's cheek was pressed to the cold concrete, and he couldn't twist around to look at her, he could tell she was straddling his back. "Almost thought I lost you, y'know. Thought that the others had swept you up and I would never see Inkley again." She laughed. "It wouldn't be the first time people have gotten lost in here… Figuratively, I mean. We always do a head-count before we wrap up, and-"

"'Scuse me, but could you let me up?"

"What?" Luma asked absently, before laughing again. "Oh, yeah." After a moment she rose, and Inkley exhaled.

He rose with a groan, and stretched noisily. " _Ow_." He cast a suspicious look at Luma, and then up the ladder. "What were you doing up there?"

Luma shrugged noncommittally. "I sit up on the ladders sometimes, to try and get a drop on people who walk by." She smirked at Inkley. "You're the first one I ever landed on though."

Inkley was about to reply when the shrill sound of a whistle cut him off. Luma motioned for him to follow, and they made their way to the meeting area. A small group had already gathered, and more filtered in by the minute. Blue stood at the head of the group, his roller leaning against the wall, and two younger boys stood beside him, one with arms crossed and the other with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Blue stared out at the crowd for a moment, before nodding to himself, seemingly satisfied by the group. "Alright guys and gals. The night's over!" A collective groan went up. "You all know the drill. Starts at eleven, ends at two. Don't act surprised." He chuckled and shook his head. "We all had a great night, and even got a new guy! Where's the new kid?"

Inkley blinked, realized they were talking about him, and tried to shrink away. But several sets of hands pushed him to the front.

"There he is!" Blue said. He took Inkley by the elbow and pulled him close, before throwing an arm around his shoulder and shaking him. "This guy, Inkley; he's one of us now. Let's hear it for the new kid!" A short cheer went up, and with a grin, Blue pushed Inkley back into the crowd. "Alright. Same time, two weeks from now." His grin only grew, and with a wink, he added "Stay out of trouble 'till then!"

With that, the gathered inklings began leaving, moving away in groups of three and four. Luma nudged Inkley with her elbow, and motioned for him to follow her. Almost everyone was heading towards the nearest ladder, while a small handful scattered in the other direction, heading for the other two ladders in the far corners of the sewer. He followed Luma towards the nearest ladder, and after waiting for their turn, they climbed up, and Inkley was somewhat disheartened to discover that it was still raining fairly hard. Looking down at his chest, however, he realized that a very large amount of ink that had stained his hoodie was now running in the rain, dripping down his entire body and onto the ground. For the first time in his life Inkley had a use for the stain-resistance nearly every article of clothing Inkopolis was made with. Of course, he _also_ spent a fairly large portion of his life either naked or in a pair of shorts.

Inkley glanced around, and noticed that they were in another alley, completely different from the one Luma and Inkley and originally entered from. Two heavy metal doors with solid-looking locks could be found, one on either wall. The entire alley was fenced off, with only a single gate providing access to the lonely little alleyway. Holding the gate shut, however, was a rather hefty-looking padlock.

Inkley frowned. He was about to ask _how_ they were supposed to get out, when two others disconnected their shooters, handed them to another duo standing nearby, and began scaling the fence. After crossing the top, one dropped to the other side, and the other followed after a moment. The duo holding their shooters tossed them over, before disconnecting their own and tossing them over as well. All four of the shooters were caught, and after a moment, all four of their owners were over the fence. Luma nudged Inkley's shoulder and stepped up to the fence, hurriedly disconnecting her Splattershot before tossing it over.

"Hurry up." She told him, before moving to climb the fence.

Inkley furrowed his brow and set to disconnecting his Splattershot Junior. He glanced across the fence, and found himself looking into the face of the same hooded pink girl who had knocked him on his rear earlier. She winked at him, and with a faint blush, Inkley tossed his shooter over the fence. With a grunt of effort, he climbed the fence, and upon reaching the top, slipped both legs over and dropped to the ground. He landed heavily and awkwardly, stumbling forward and dropping to a knee. A gloved hand was thrust into his vision, and Inkley looked up to the hooded girl who extended it.

"Watch your step, cutie." She said as she helped Inkley up, handing him his shooter.

"Really, Lilith?" Luma asked, putting a fist on her hip.

Lilith giggled and shrugged at Luma. "What can I say? You know how to pick 'em, Luma."

Luma sighed, playfully slapping Lilith's arm before motioning to Inkley. "Right. See you later." She said, glancing at the hooded girl before walking off. "C'mon, Inkley. Let's get our stuff."

Inkley followed after Luma, but sent a glance back. Lilith stayed with the others, catching a beaten charger and saying something to its owner. "Friend of yours?" He asked, turning back to Luma.

"Yeah." She replied with a halfhearted shrug. "Known each other for a while." Pointing down the street, she added "Down there's the alley we went down in. Our stuff should still be in the dumpster."

They walked in silence for a minute or two. Inkley spent the time trying to reconnect his shooter to his tank, which was still a quarter full of sloughing ink. At first, it was hard because of the scarce lighting, but as they grew closer to Inkopolis plaza, the light became brighter, and he eventually succeeded.

With a cursory glance, Inkley could tell that almost no one else was out at this time of night. From the corner of his eye, he saw a rather dazed-looking couple, sloppily clinging to one another as they stumbled through the street. Luma seemed completely unfazed by the time or the thought of being caught by some authority figure. Indeed, it seemed as though she had done this so many times it was little more than another rut in her routine. And Inkley would have believed that if someone told him.

They reached the alley, and though Inkley couldn't say why, he half-expected the dumpster, and all of his stuff, to be gone. But it was still there, the lid closed to keep out the rain. Luma shrugged off her tank, set it and her shooter down, and clambered up the edge, tossing open the lid and hopped over the edge.

"Which one is yours?"

"Black and silver, with the Krak-On logo on the front."

After a moment, his bag came flying at him. It struck his chest and he barely caught it before it hit the ground. He busied himself with putting his shooter and tank away while Luma dug her own bag out of the bunch. After a minute, both of them had their belongings, and were on their way again.

"You have your money?" Luma asked suddenly.

Inkley was caught off-guard by the question. After a moment, he nodded absently, and stuffed a hand into his pocket. He fished out a small handful of coins. "Yeah."

"Sweet." She said. "I know a place we can pick up some snacks."

And she did. Luma led the way through the dimly lit streets, and eventually, they were standing in a brightly-lit convenience store, with shelves lined with food, items like bandages and painkillers, even pairs of gloves and sunglasses. In the far corner was a cooler filled with canned and bottled beverages. At the front of the store, behind the counter, was a bored-looking girl with neon-yellow tentacles. She barely acknowledged Luma and Inkley's entrance, instead blowing a pink bubble with a wad of gum. Her eyes darted down to the magazine lying on the counter in front of her and they didn't come back up. There was something strange about her, though, something Inkley couldn't place.

Luma, however, paid no attention the clerk, instead moving directly towards the candy aisle. She waited for only a moment, before removing several bags of candy from their hangers, including _Gummi-Urchins_ , _Chocolate Inklets_ , and _Never-Ending Inkstoppers_. With all that tucked under one arm, she slipped around the corner, undoubtedly heading for the drink cooler. Deciding he could use a snack himself, Inkley grabbed two packs of Gummi-Urchins and followed after her. Rounding the corner, Inkley could see Luma pulling a bottle of Splat Cola from the shelf. She wheeled around, nearly colliding with Inkley, but she simply grinned at him, and sidestepped him to go to the counter. Inkley grabbed himself a bottle of Splatberry Punch, before following Luma. They both dumped their armfuls on the counter.

The clerk looked expectantly at them. She stared at both of them for a particularly long time, before blowing another bubble and scanning their items. "Is all this together?"

"Yeah." Luma said quickly.

The clerk clicked her tongue and finished scanning everything. "That'll be seven coins."

Inkley frowned thoughtfully as he dug out the coins, and counted them in his palm before dumping them on the counter. The clerk scooped the coins into her hand, hit a button on the register, and placed the coins within.

"You want the receipt?" The clerk asked.

"No."

The clerk unceremoniously scooped everything but the drinks into a plastic bag and handed the bag to Luma. "A bit late for little squiddies like you two to be out, isn't it?"

"Probably." Luma replied, taking her drink and heading for the door. Inkley grabbed his own drink, and followed after her. She shoved the bag into his hands. "Hold that."

Inkley remained quiet as they walked, mostly because he had no idea where they were. They had left the Plaza at some point, and so Inkley was relying entirely on Luma to navigate. It took them only a few minutes to return to the Plaza, however, and once there, they made a beeline towards the train station. There was no train waiting for them, and so they sat down on nearby benches. Inkley jammed a hand into the plastic bag, dug out two packs of Gummi-Urchins, and stuffed one into his backpack. Sitting across from him, Luma raised both her hands, and Inkley tossed the plastic bag to her. She caught it, and immediately began opening her Inklets.

Inkley popped a handful of gummies into his mouth and chewed for a moment. He sent a curious glance around the Plaza, and noticed that it was empty again. "Where's everyone else?" He asked suddenly.

Luma shrugged halfheartedly. "Moth of 'em are pwobably on a twain." She said, slurring around a mouthful of chocolate. Swallowing, she added "Some of them might be home by now. A few live really close by."

"Oh." Inkley said absently, nodding thoughtfully. He glanced furtively at Luma, who was occupied with another handful of sweets, and considered asking her. He repeated the question in his head a dozen times. _Where do_ you _live?_ He opened his mouth, and suddenly, the sound of a train rattling down the tracks not too far away cut him off.

Not too long after, a train pulled into the station. The door slid open, but no one exited. Luma stood and entered, and with his shoulders slumped, Inkley followed her. They entered the train car, and moved to the rear, where the seats were turned to face one another. Luma sat on one side, and Inkley took the seat across from her. The conductor barely waited for the both of them to sit before the train lurched into motion. Evidently, they knew or believed that no one else was getting on this late at night.

The duo rode in silence for several minutes. The only sounds that accompanied their ride were the steady roll of the train over the tracks, and a just-as-steady munching as they ate. As time wore on, the silence ate at Inkley's nerves.

"S-so, uh… How long have you been…" Inkley began, pausing to find the proper words. "Doing _this_?"

Luma chewed and swallowed a mouthful before replying. "A while. Can't remember exactly when I started." She said with a shrug. "I started getting into turf-fighting stuff as soon as I could, I guess." She paused, before cocking an eyebrow at Inkley. "Why?"

Inkley blinked. "I-I don't know." He stammered after a moment. "Just wondering, I guess."

Luma grinned at him, and for the first time, Inkley realized, she had shown her teeth while grinning. They were brilliantly white, but her three fangs looked remarkably larger than his own, and those of others, he suspected. " _Riiiiight_." She said. "Y'know, you kept up with the rest of us better than most new kids. Most of them - especially kids who are _new_ like you - are really… _Soft_ , I guess. Like a squid! They can't run well, they have trouble changing to a squid and back… You catch on quick."

A faint blush colored Inkley's cheeks, and he felt his tentacles darken. "I guess I'm a fast learner."

Luma shrugged again. "Don't get me wrong, you were almost always at the back of the pack, but the fact that you were _with_ the pack makes you pretty decent for a new kid."

"Thanks..?"

She looked him in the eyes, and all traces of humor disappeared from her voice. "You really should start exercising, though. It gets easier the earlier you start." The flippant tone of her voice returned, and she smirked. "I didn't get _this_ body overnight, you know." Inkley's blush only increased, and Luma laughed.

They kept talking for a while, but the entirety of the ride after that was a haze. Inkley could only vaguely recall the rest of the conversation.

Eventually, a voice came over the speaker. " _Now stopping at Inkwood Grove._ "

That broke Inkley from his daze. "That's my stop." He said suddenly.

A minute later, the train came to a halt, and the door slid open.

"Alright, Inkley." Luma said, giving him a playful salute, surprisingly similar to the one Lilith had given him earlier in the night. "Thanks for the food. _I'll see ya around, kid._ "

The way she said it sent shivers down Inkley's spine as he exited the train car. Glancing around, Inkley could tell that it was still raining, although it appeared to have lightened up substantially. Still, nearly all the lights in his neighborhood were off. As he walked, Inkley shrugged off his bag, stuffed his drink inside, and shouldered it again. He put his hood up, drew it tightly around his head, and made his way home.

The night air was cool, and the rain was cooler. His walk home was uneventful, and he found himself staring at the front of his own home in what seemed like no time at all. There wasn't a single trace of light from within his home, meaning his mother was definitely asleep. Inkley recalled that she would occasionally watch TV late at night. Shaking the thought from his head, Inkley walked right up to the front door, and tried the knob. It didn't budge. With a sigh, he stepped off the stone stairs leading to the door, sent a furtive glance around, and felt blindly around the left side of the bottom step. After a moment, his fingers brushed cold metal, and he peeled the key off the side of the step. His mother had told him about the key there not too long ago, and warned him that he shouldn't ever actually get locked out of the house. So if he ever needed to use this key, that had been so expertly taped to the side of the step, he had made a bad decision somewhere along the way.

The memory of that conversation they had, when Inkley was neither a squid nor a kid, was brought to the front of his mind. He sighed as he unlocked the door and replaced the key, and wondered if the fact that he didn't feel any guilt made him a bad inkling or not. He opened the door quietly, stuck his head in, listened, and stepped in softly. He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, and shuffled through the dark towards the stairs. His steps were slow and sure as he tried to avoid stumbling and making noise in the dark.

Eventually, his crawling pace brought him to his room. He opened the door, entered, closed it behind him as quietly as he could, and put his bag in the closet. He stripped down to his boxers, threw all the dirty clothes in the corner where his hamper should have been, and as he tossed the dirty clothes in his bed into the corner, he marveled at how clean the hoodie was. No stains, no discoloration. _Thank ink_ _for whoever made clothes ink-resistant._

Inkley flopped into his bed, too tired to bother to close the window, and a cool breeze blew into his room. He shivered, pulled his sheets around his body, and eventually drifted off.

* * *

Inkley woke with a groan. The predicted soreness from last night had indeed hit him, and his legs were the hardest hit. He eventually rose, and found he had trouble putting any pressure at all on his legs. After several minutes of simply staring at the floor, he managed to stand, and shuffled painfully to the upstairs bathroom. He relieved himself, and before leaving, found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror. Luma's words from last night rang in his head. He lifted an arm and flexed, hoping to see some kind of muscular definition in his bicep. He saw very little. With a frown, he poked two fingers into his stomach, and sighed. It _was_ kind of soft. But, barely a month ago, his body had only the most basic form of definition. At that point in his life, despite the vaguely humanoid shape, his entire body was incredibly soft. _And so very sticky_. Inkley couldn't suppress a laugh as he remembered how messy the second-to-last stage of his life was.

Inkley went back to his room, threw on a pair of shorts and a white shirt, and went downstairs. It was silent. His mother, evidently, had left already. Looking at a clock in the living room, Inkley could clearly see why. It was nearly eleven already! Inkley groaned as he made himself a bowl of cereal. The last time he had woke up that late was his fourteenth birthday, when he had spent nearly the entire night before sitting in front of the mirror, waiting to fully turn into a kid. He had fallen asleep at three in the morning, passed out in the hallway, and when he woke up, he was no longer a gelatinous squid-thing, but a fully-fledged kid.

Inkley ate slowly, taking the time to think about last night. _Would it be weird if he considered that the greatest night of his life?_ He honestly didn't know, and after he ate, he rushed upstairs to brush his teeth, the memories still flashing through his head like a TV show. It all sort of felt like a dream. Inkley paid particular attention to his fangs while brushing, and he was suddenly reminded of Luma. With a sigh, he spat into the sink, put his toothbrush back, and went back to his room.

He had a message waiting for him on his computer. It was from Brine.

" _You up?_ " It was from nearly an hour ago.

Inkley sat at his computer, groaning with discomfort as his legs throbbed. " _Yeah. What's up?_ "

It was nearly fifteen minutes later when he got a response. " _Can I come over today? I want to see your Splattershot._ "

" _Sure. Come over whenever. My mom's not gonna be home for a while._ "

" _Cool. I'll be over in an hour._ "

" _See you then._ " Inkley typed, and then powered down his computer. Once again, he knew Brine probably didn't even get the last message. With nothing better to do, Inkley went downstairs, flopped down on the couch in the living room, flipped on the TV, put his feet up and tried to relax.


	5. Learning

It was a quarter past noon when Inkley heard a knock on his door. He had spent the past hour watching highlights of recent turf wars, hosted by the Squid Sisters, of course. Rising from the couch, Inkley went to the door and opened it.

Brine stood there, hands stuffed into his pockets. He grinned at Inkley. Brine was near exactly the same height as Inkley, with a thinner build and bright orange tentacles. His eyes were dark blue, and seemed to constantly move from one thing in another. Much like the boy they belonged to, they never sat still. He stood on his tip-toes and tried to peer over Inkley's head.

"Hey, man." Brine said quickly. "So? Let's see it!"

Inkley huffed at Brine's rush, but stepped aside to let his friend in. "It's upstairs. Come on."

Brine surged up the stairs without a second thought. Inkley closed the door and followed him as quickly as his sore legs would allow, eager to show off, and just as eager to keep Brine from going through his things. When Inkley entered his room, he was relieved to find Brine simply standing in the middle of his room, looking around.

"You still have that poster?" Brine asked, jerking a thumb towards the door.

Inkley furrowed his brow. "Yeah. So? Shut up." Shaking his head, he went to the closet and opened his bag.

Brine appeared over at his shoulder. "It's in there? Why?"

"To keep it hidden." Inkley replied. "You know how my mom is about this kind of stuff." Ignoring whatever else Brine had to say, Inkley fished out his Splattershot Junior and its tank.

"That's a Junior." Brine said suddenly. "I thought it was a normal Splattershot."

"Did I say it was a normal one?" Inkley asked him.

"No. But you didn't say it was a Junior, either."

"Well it is."

Brine huffed, but extended his hands. "Lemme see it."

Inkley was hesitant to hand it over. "Don't break it." He said.

"I'm not gonna!" Brine replied, taking the shooter when it was offered. He turned it over and over, examining it for several minutes. "I have one just like this." He announced eventually. "But it's newer. And a different color."

"And not _just like this_ ," Inkley replied.

After a moment, Brine returned the shooter. "You know what I mean. I have a Junior kinda like that. Jet gave that to you?"

"Yeah."

"I never saw her use it before. Even when we were younger."

"I think it was her first shooter."

They stood in silence for a moment. Brine stretched and yawned noisily. "I'm bored." He said afterwards.

"TV?"

"TV."

* * *

The day, and then the week, passed uneventfully. Inkley noticed that his mother occasionally came home up to two hours late, but made nothing of it. She seemed not to notice his soreness, and the week progressed like it usually did. Wednesday night she came home early, they went out to eat, and bumped into Synthia. The encounter was excruciatingly embarrassing as usual, but wasn't anything new. Thursday night, Jet called, and wanted to talk to Inkley.

"Heya, Squirt." Jet said, her voice filtered through her phone. "How've you been?"

"Fine." Inkley replied. "What do you want?"

"Can't a loving sister call her little brother to check in on him?"

"You don't."

Jet huffed, audible even over the phone. "You're a little jerk, you know that?"

"Learned from the best."

Jet laughed. "Feel like hanging out with me this weekend, Squirt?"

"Yeah!"

"Mom's not listening, is she?"

Inkley looked over his shoulder and saw his mother sitting on the couch, reading. "No."

"Bring your shooter. I'll start training you how to use that thing right this weekend."

"Sweet."

"Alright Squirt, I'll be over to pick you up tomorrow afternoon. Have your crap ready."

"'Kay. See you then." _Click_. Inkley walked into the living room and handed his mother her phone. "Jet's gonna pick me up tomorrow."

His mother smiled at him and nodded. "Alright. You have everything you need for the weekend?" Inkley nodded. "Alright sweetie." She went back to her book.

Inkley went back to his room and couldn't help but pack all his things away in anticipation. The wait was already killing him, and later that night, for the first time since he had grown, he dreamed about being in a Turf War.

* * *

Though the day passed with excruciating slowness, Inkley eventually heard a knock on the door, and he raced downstairs to answer it. Jet was there, and blinked at Inkley as he threw the door open.

"Oh, hey." She said after a moment. "That was quick."

"I'm excited." Inkley said quietly.

"Jet?" Came their mother's voice from the kitchen.

"Hey mom." Jet called back. "Just picking Inkley up."

"Come here for a minute."

With a frown and a shrug, Jet walked past Inkley towards the kitchen. "Go get your stuff."

Inkley heard muffled talking as he jogged up the stairs. He slowed near the top and tried to listen, but found he still couldn't. _They're whispering_. Inkley sighed as he shuffled into his room and slung his bag over his shoulder. Pausing for a moment, he looked around his room, checking to make sure he had everything he needed, and that everything was in its proper place. Satisfied, he walked out, closed his door, and went down the stairs. He stepped softly, and shuffled to the kitchen. Leaning through the doorway, Inkley spied Jet leaning on the counter, her arms crossed and a somewhat irritated look on her face. Their mother had almost the exact same posture.

"You know-" His mother began, but she seized up slightly, and Inkley knew she saw him. "-You know how important it is." She finished quickly. She huffed softly. "Have a nice weekend, you two."

"Yeah." Jet replied. "Right. Let's get going, Inkley."

Inkley followed Jet out the door, stopping only to shout "Bye mom!" before he closed it.

Jet led the way to train station, but seemed distracted as she did so.

"What were you guys talking about?" Inkley asked.

"Huh? Oh - uh, nothing really. Grown-up stuff." Jet told him. Inkley was about to respond when she shook her head. "Boring stuff, Squirt. Bills and junk like that."

"Oh."

"Yeah." She sighed, and looked away for a moment. Inkley thought about how sad she looked in that instant. It was gone in a second though, replaced by her usual smile. "But enough about that. Tomorrow, we're gonna teach you to splat like a pro."

Inkley thought it was weird that she said _we_ , but ignored it. The ride to jet's neighborhood was quiet, and in what seemed like no time at all, they were at the door to her apartment. Jet didn't even have to unlock the door, which Inkley found strange. She usually locked her door when she went out. Her apartment was messier than usual, which was just as strange, because Inkley knew for a fact that Jet had a certain level of mess she liked to keep. An open pizza-box with a half-eaten pizza sat on the table in front of the couch, and over an armrest, a pink jacket was draped. Inkley's stomach sank.

" _Looooook_ who I brought." Jet said, closing the door behind her.

" _Ohmygosh, Inkley!_ "

Inkley looked to the right, towards Jet's kitchen. Synthia was standing there, hands clasped together. And then she came at him. Synthia embraced Inkley, and he knew it was useless to fight it. All he could do was groan into her shoulder as she squeezed the breath out of his lungs.

Nearly two minutes passed, and at length, Synthia released Inkley. "It's nice seeing you again." She said.

Inkley looked at the floor and mumbled a response. Jet slapped his shoulder and laughed. "Don't look so down, Squirt." She told him. "Think of it like this; there's at least one person guaranteed to not hate your guts."

Inkley huffed and looked at his sister. " _Thanks_."

Jet smiled innocently. "What? Don't look at me like that. I said _at least_."

Inkley sighed and went to the couch, dropping his bag next to it and flopping down. Jet and Synthia said something to each other, laughed, and then moved to join him, sitting on either side. The TV was on, and Jet picked up the remote from the table and idly flicked through channels.

"Wait. Was that..?" Jet said, sitting up suddenly. She went back a few channels. "Holy crap, _Splat Hard_! I didn't know this was on TV already."

Synthia cocked an eyebrow at Jet. "Isn't this movie a little… _Risque_ for Inkley?"

Jet laughed and smirked at Inkley. "Risque? Oh, Synth, you've never seen what Inkley here has tacked on his door. It's _super_ naughty."

Synthia smiled deviously, and at once, Inkley knew they were both against him. "Is that right? No, my sweet little Inkley could _never_ be _naughty_ , could he?"

Inkley leapt to his feet. "I-I need to ink!" He shouted, and ran for the bathroom.

Slamming the door, Inkley slumped against it and sighed. _The whole world's out to get me._ Inkley suddenly found that he did actually have to ink, and quickly relieved himself. While washing his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror. Inkley stuck his tongue out at his reflection, and decided it was time to let his tentacles down. Flicking the water from his hands, he removed the band from tentacles, and they fell limply against his cheeks. With a smile and a thought, Inkley watched as he left tentacle twitched, and wormed up to scratch at the tip of his nose. _Being able to do that is great_.

Taking a breath, Inkley exited the bathroom, ready for whatever awaited him. Both Jet and Synthia seemed fairly busy with the movie they were watching. They paid him little heed as he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Only when he started routing through her food did Jet seem to notice.

"Hey, Squirt." She said, craning her neck to see over Synthia's head. "What're you doing?"

"Food." Inkley replied, not bothering to look back.

"Pizza."

Inkley turned to look at Jet. "How long's that been sitting out?"

"Only, like, five hours."

Inkley made a disgusted noise and continued to dig through Jet's fridge.

Jet groaned and rose from her seat. She came up to Inkley and planted a hand on his shoulder. "Why do you always gotta eat my food? Doesn't mom feed you?"

"Yeah." Inkley replied, closing the fridge and looking up at Jet. "But you _usually_ have better snacks."

Jet scoffed, putting on a hurt look. "Are you implying that I _don't_ have the best snacks?" She rustled Inkley's tentacles and stepped over to the cupboard beside the fridge. Opening it, she removed a bright red bag and handed it to Inkley. "I got these because Zoom said he liked them. But he didn't come over today, so screw him. Go nuts, kiddo."

Jet went back to her seat. Inkley looked down at the bag. _Cuddlefish_ brand coral chips. _Nacho cheese_ flavored _._ Inkley licked his lips as he pulled the bag open, stuffed his nose into the opening, and breathed in deeply. The smell was almost intoxicating. He immediately stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth, and though he had trouble actually chewing, he was very satisfied by the outcome of his snack-hunt.

He went back to his seat between Jet and Synthia, and watched the movie with them. It was an action movie, containing quite a bit of profanity and violence. Inkley knew Synthia was right that he probably wasn't the movie's target audience. He also knew even more that his mother would be mad at him for watching it, and even more mad at Jet for _letting_ him watch it. But, of course, that _was_ the allure of spending weekends at Jet's.

Inkley had finished nearly half the bag of chips when he believed the movie was coming to a close, though both jet and Synthia helped him by taking the occasional handful. The hero had rescued his girlfriend from the villain, blown up the warehouse, and won a fist-fight against the villain's most loyal goon. In the background, as the hero and his girlfriend walked away from the burning warehouse, the villain was being manhandled by two men in police uniforms. The hero stopped suddenly, spun his girlfriend around, and kissed her. And then -

Synthia slapped a hand over Inkley's eyes. " _Jet_!" She hissed. Inkley groaned.

" _Whoa_ , I think that's enough of that!" Jet said quickly, and Inkley heard the channel change.

Synthia's hand fell away from Inkley's face. "What was that for?" He asked, looking between Synthia and Jet. Jet huffed at him and looked to the TV, while Synthia blushed and looked away.

They watched a documentary about the Great Turf War for a while. Inkley was bored to tears by it, and could tell that Jet and Synthia were, too. But no one said anything for the longest time.

"Hey, Squirt." Jet said at last. "Synthia here's gonna be helping me teach you."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I was thinking, it'd be good for you to learn from more than one person, you know?" Jet shrugged. "I mean, I'm _great_ and all, but Synthia's not half bad, and she uses shooters more than I do. Since you've got a Splattershot Junior, I figured she could help you handle shooters better."

Inkley thought for a moment. "'Kay." Was the best response he had.

"Zoom's _supposed_ to be there to teach you about rollers and how to deal with them, but he's probably going to ditch again. _Jerk_." Jet continued. "I've got a little room booked in the Dojo, all day tomorrow. By Sunday morning, you're going to be sore, and better than you are now. It's gonna be-" Jet paused as her phone rang. With a sigh, she picked it up and looked at it. Standing, she answered. "Hey, Cherry. What's up?" Jet walked away from the couch, casually moving towards the kitchen. "Uh-huh. Uh-huh. _Nooooo_ , that's totally fine. It's cool; I'm happy for you, _really_. Oh? Yeah, that sounds great. Sunday afternoon? Sure. Yeah, I'll see you later, too, bye." Jet dropped her phone on the counter and slapped her open palm against her thigh. " _Splat_!"

Synthia stood. "What's wrong?"

Jet looked at her. "Come here for a sec; we need to talk about Cherry." She looked at Inkley. "You can watch whatever you want, Squirt."

Synthia went to Jet, and Inkley picked up the remote and flipped the channels. While doing so, he heard snippets of their conversation.

"Remember, she was dating a Tangerine? Well..."

"... Can't quit! She was our final member… Has my favorite top!"

"Match on Sunday… What else could I say?"

"... Not a full team…. Can't compete…"

" _What else could I say_ , Synth?"

Inkley quit channel-surfing, and looked over at them. They were both huddled together, their backs to him. Suddenly, Jet cast a look over her shoulder at Inkley.

… "Got an idea…"

Synthia followed Jet's gaze. "Really?"

"Either that, or we bail and admit to _Cherry_ that she's better." Jet replied. "Remember, _Cherry_ , the girl who cried when she won her first match? The girl who _has your favorite top_."

There was a long pause. "Fine. Let's do it."

Jet grinned, and suddenly hugged Synthia. "I _knew_ you'd be cool, Synth! We'll talk about it during training."

The two of them huddled closer and continued whispering, but Inkley found he couldn't make any of it out. He turned his attention back to the TV. Callie and Marie were on either side of the screen, pointing out plays and highlights of the most recent professional turf war. Inkley watched with vague interest, finding himself just as interested in the hostesses as the subject of the show. Time passed in a blur, and before he knew it, the credits were rolling. Blinking, Inkley sat up, and a cascade of crumbs rolled down the front of his shirt. With a groan, he stood and brushed himself off.

"Well, I'm gonna head home now." Synthia said, standing at the door. She and Jet embraced quickly, and Synthia sent a wave to Inkley. "I'll see you two later."

"See you tomorrow, Synth." Jet called as Synthia walked out the door.

Inkley looked on the armrest of the couch, and realized Synthia's jacket was still sitting there. "Wait!" He shouted. "You're-" _Slam!_ "-jacket." Inkley turned to Jet.

She just shrugged and sat down. "What? We can just give it to her tomorrow. I'm too lazy to chase her down, and so are you." Inkley shot her a look. " _What_? We're related. _Don't think I don't know_."

Inkley sighed and flopped back onto the couch. Once more, time passed in a blur. At some point, Jet went to her room, and stayed there for the rest of the night. Not too long after, Inkley found himself drifting to sleep, his body splayed awkwardly out on the couch.

* * *

 _He had been here before. Yes. He had_ definitely _been here before. He heard laughter not far off, and he rose from wherever he was seated. Glancing back, he saw that his chair no longer existed. Not a moment later, he realized he was outside. On the beach. His feet were bare, and the warm sand felt amazing. He was only wearing a pair of baggy trunks. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on him, but a cool breeze rolled through. It felt amazing._

 _The laughter grew louder. He followed it. After walking for what seemed like an eternity, he spotted figures in the distance. They were in a pool of ink as blue as the sky, swimming and splashing while laughing with glee. This place was like some kind of oasis. He approached slowly, vaguely aware of the fact that this was_ really _weird. The faces that were splashing in the pool seemed vaguely familiar. He had seen all these faces before, he was sure of it. Everyone gathered around the pool seemed not to notice his approach, and as he slid into the ink, they behaved as though he had always been there. The nearest inkling, a girl with long red tentacles, splashed him and dove under to avoid any counter attack. He spat out a glob of ink that had gotten into his mouth and laughed._

 _Time passed quickly, or so it seemed. He suddenly found himself lying on his back in the shallow end of the pool, while the others played. Something slid into view, blocking out the light. It took him a moment to adjust to the darkness, and he stared up at Luma's face. She look down at him, her tentacles draped over her shoulders and onto his chest. Her face moved closer to his._

" _Inkley…" She said softly. "I need you to do something for me."_

" _What?" He replied, utterly entranced._

" _Wake up…"_

" _H-huh..?"_

"Wake up!"

Inkley nearly leapt out of his skin. He bolted upright. Jet stood there, her arms crossed, looking down at him. He groaned, and felt as though he had been here before…

"C'mon, kid." She said. "It's nearly noon."

Inkley rubbed the side of his head as he stood. "Seriously? Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Jet scoffed. "Oh, so it's my fault?"

"Something like that." Inkley mumbled, crouching to dig out a new outfit from his bag. He stumbled towards the bathroom.

"Hury up! We're supposed to be at the Dojo in forty-five minutes!"

Inkley closed the bathroom door behind him, and went to splash cold water in his face. It rejuvenated him almost instantly. He relieved himself, brushed his teeth, and changed. Slouched over the sink, Inkley looked at himself in the mirror and grinned. He was feeling fresh. _Today's a tentacles-down kind of day,_ he decided. He didn't bother putting his tentacles up like he normally did, and left the bathroom with his dirty clothes bundled under his arm.

"Hurry up." Jet told him. "We're gonna grab breakfast on the way there."

Inkley stuffed his dirty clothes into his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and stood. Something came to him, and he snatched up Synthia's jacket off the couch, carefully putting in his bag, in a different pouch than his dirty clothes. Satisfied, he followed Jet, who had her own bag with her, out the door. Not a minute later, they were out the door of Jet's apartment building, and on their way down the street. Inkley once again felt like he had been in this position before, and he suddenly realized why. Not too far down the street, he spotted the sign for Fishy Frank's.

"What're we doin'?" Inkley asked, looking up at Jet.

"Grabbing breakfast." She said matter-of-factly. "Duh."

"At Fishy Frank's?"

"Yeah." She looked at him like he was an idiot. "Frank makes some of the best cinnamon rolls in Inkopolis."

Inkley scrunched up his face and said nothing else. They entered Fishy Frank's, which Inkley was surprised to find half-full. Despite this, Fishy Frank leaned over the counter to wave at Jet.

"Hey, if it isn't my favorite customer." He said jovially.

"Thanks, Frank." Jet replied.

The jellyfish laughed. "I was talkin' to the little guy." The look on Jet's face made Inkley snort with laughter. Fishy Frank stabbed a tentacle in Inkley's direction. "See? He gets it."

Jet sighed and shook her head, though her smile betrayed her. "Alright, alright. We're just here for breakfast."

Fishy Frank nodded. "The usual?" Jet nodded. "Alright. The next batch'll be up in a few minutes. You two'll be gettin' the freshest rolls." He leaned over the counter and glanced around. "Don't tell anyone else, though." He added with a good-natured wink.

Jet and Inkley took a seat on the stools at the counter. Inkley set his bag down by his feet. They sat in silence for a moment, and Inkley was content to spend the time idly kicking his feet in the air. Jet glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"You have a good week, Squirt?"

Inkley was suddenly very tempted to tell her everything that had happened. He knew she would never tell mom, and even more than that, he had the feeling she would even _encourage_ his behavior. But then he remembered where he was. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her, but knew that the counter in Fishy Frank's probably wasn't the best place to spill his heart out.

"Yeah. It was alright." Inkley finally replied.

"What'd you do?"

"Not much. Hung out at home, mostly. I watched some stuff online about shooters and turf wars. I showed my Splattershot to Brine, too."

"Hm." Was all Jet said for a moment. "Brine? That's the one around the block, right?" Inkley nodded. "He still all…" Jet paused for a moment, at a loss for words. "Twitchy?"

Inkley smiled at the way Jet phrased it. Before, he never would have called Brine _twitchy_ , but it suddenly seemed to fit him very well. "Yeah."

"Synth used to be like that."

"She still is."

"Yeah. Folks never grow out of it." They both laughed.

They sat in silence for another minute. In that short period, Inkley became increasingly aware of the amazing smell that was drifting from the kitchen. Not long after, Fishy Frank emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plastic tray with nearly two dozen steaming cinnamon rolls on it. He set the tray down on a metal tabletop behind him, and busily wrapped two in wax paper, before setting both down before Jet and Inkley.

"There you go." Fishy Frank said. "That'll be four coins."

Jet dug in her pocket, and fished out a handful of coins. "See you later Frank."

They took their rolls and left for the nearest train station. Inkley immediately began unwrapping his cinnamon roll.

"Careful." Jet said casually,eyeing her own. "They're hot."

Inkley ignored her and took a bite as soon as he was able. And _immediately_ regretted it. His tongue burned, and he chewed as carefully as possible before swallowing.

"Hot!"

"Yeah, dumby?" Jet asked, sending a sidelong glance at Inkley. She was silent for a moment. "But it was good, right?"

" _Totally_." They shared a laugh.

They made it to a train station not long after. The ride was short and uneventful, and they took the chance to eat while seated. The walk to the Battle Dojo was just as quiet. Among the crowd, Inkley could easily pick out Synthia's bright pink tentacles and apparel, with a bright red duffel bag at her feet. She waved happily as they approached, and Inkley hurried to dig out Synthia's jacket.

Synthia saw the flash of pink and beamed as Inkley presented her jacket. "Oh, how sweet of you!" She cried, taking the chance to sweep Inkley up in a tight hug. "So very chivalrous. _Or something_."

There was a ring from Jet, and she pulled her phone out of her pocket. She read something and shrugged. "Zoom said he'll be here in around half an hour. Let's get started without him."

Synthia nudged Inkley with her elbow. "Be a dear and carry my bag?"

Inkley huffed and rolled his eyes, but picked up her bag anyway. It was lighter than he expected, and he nearly tumbled onto his rear when he lifted it from the ground.

"Careful, Squirt." Jet told him, though neither she or Synthia stopped walking.

Inkley jogged to catch up to them, and as a trio, they entered the Battle Dojo.

Inkley was immediately struck by how welcoming the place seemed. Though plain, everything was set up in a way that welcomed relaxation. There were two benches to either side of the entrance, both of which were fully occupied by six inklings all wearing similar clothes. A trophy case sat on the left side of the room, filled with various trophies, medals, and beside that hung a strange set of electronic devices. In the center of the room sat a large, arc-shaped desk, with three inklings sitting behind it. One of them stared at the screen of a computer, another busily flipped through a hefty ledger, and the third, an overly-enthused yellow inkboy seated in the center of the arc, seemed to simply wait for someone to approach.

The center clerk beamed at Jet. "He-ell-low! Welcome to the Battle Dojo. How can I help you today?"

"I've got a training room booked for _Jet_."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I need the full name."

Jet sighed and rolled her eyes. _She hates our last name._ " _Inkelton_."

Inkley couldn't blame her. He couldn't help but cringe whenever people brought up his initials.

"Thank you…" The clerk said. "Ah, yes, there you are. Room thirteen. Take the elevator down, the room will be down the hall, on your left side." And as they walked away, the clerk called "Thank you for choosing the Battle Dojo!"

"What a squid." Jet huffed.

They walked to the elevator and pressed the call button. The wait, though only a minute long, felt like an eternity. Eventually, the doors slid open, and a trio of inklings with splotches of ink of their clothes, and full-looking bags on their backs filtered out of the elevator. Jet, Synthia, and Inkley took their place, and the elevator went downwards. The ride lasted longer than Inkley would have expected, and he found himself wondering just how deep the _actual_ Dojo was.

The downward plunge _did_ eventually end, and the doors slid open to reveal a rather barren hallway, where everything but the numbers on the doors was a uniform white. It strongly contrasted the entrance building above, and Inkley was immediately reminded of how it seemed sterile, almost like a hospital. The hallways stretched out for quite a while. It was lined with white doors, and each door had a number on it. Door One was on the left, Two on the right, and it went in such a pattern all the way down. At the far end of the hall was a heavier door, with what looked like an outdated computer monitor in the wall beside it.

"What's that?" Inkley asked, pointing to the end of the hall.

"That's the _Battle Room_." Jet replied. "Most famous part of the Dojo. Hard to book though. It's really neat; they run a simulation that rebuilds a few popular turf war spots, and two squids can go head-to-head and try to score points by popping balloons. It's as dumb as it sounds, but it's _really_ fun."

"But that's not what we're here for." Synthia said, jabbing an elbow into Jet's side. "Try not to get carried away."

Jet put on a hurt look. "Me? _Carried away_? As if." She shook her head and pointed down the hall. "Our room's down here. Hurry up, little squiddies."

Jet led the way towards room thirteen. She slid it open without effort, and all three of them entered. Synthia, being the last to enter, closed the door behind her.

The room was solid white, just like the hallway. There were no decorations, nothing other than the spotless white. Two rows of overhead lighting fixtures lit the room, and the artificial light it produced was harsh enough to make Inkley squint as he entered.

"I don't like this." Inkley said suddenly.

Jet laughed. "What? The room? Yeah, they make them like this on purpose. It's supposed to make you want to paint it a bunch of different colors. Psychology, or some crud like that." She shook her head. "It certainly works, though."

Synthia grinned from ear to ear. "Well, let's make a mess already."

Jet patted her bag. "Sounds like a plan."

Inkley set Synthia's bag down for her, and quickly set to work on digging out and preparing his splattershot Junior. Jet and Synthia did likewise, and in just a few moments, the three of them stood with their weapons at the ready. Synthia had a fairly new-looking Jet Squelcher, painted neon pink.

"I've had this thing for a month or two. It's _great_." She said, adding a wink at the end.

"Quit talkin' and put it to use, then." Jet interrupted. "This white's starting to hurt my eyes. Heck, right now, I'd even prefer Inkley's _gross_ shade of green to this."

Inkley huffed and stuck his tongue out at Jet. But he said nothing, and instead transformed into a squid. For a moment, all he could do was flop about uselessly, but a small pool of ink formed beneath him, and at length, he sunk into it. A few seconds later, he could feel that his tank was full, and he resurfaced, changing back into humanoid form as he rose. With a glance, Inkley could tell that both Synthia and Jet were doing the same thing he had done. He waited for them to resurface.

Jet looked at him and gave him an all-too-familiar grin. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's make a mess!"


	6. Get Inked

Inkley's tongue poked from the corner of his mouth and he painted the rear wall of the room. He fired as Synthia had instructed him, standing several paces away and sweeping the spray from side to side, painting from the top down. Efficiency, or some junk like that.

" _It's all about stance. Feet shoulder-width apart. Back straight. Just fire your Junior from the hip. You'll give yourself a bloody nose if you raise that thing past your shoulder."_ Synthia had told Inkley.

Inkley found himself almost sweating as he concentrated on the advice he had been given. In no time at all, the entire wall was dripping with ink the same color as his tentacles. Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Inkley realized that both Jet and Synthia had finished their walls, and were instead firing straight up, painting the ceiling regardless of the globs of ink that fell back onto them. Inkley waited for a moment, and with a shrug, he aimed his own shooter up.

He wasn't surprised at how much the Junior kicked in his grip. But he _was_ surprised as how much ink came raining back down on him. He turned his head downward and groaned as at least half of the ink he shot up colored the floor instead of the ceiling. Despite that, however, by the time his Junior clicked dry, Inkley sent a glance up and realized he had colored a solid patch. There was enough ink at his feet to refill his tank, and he did so quickly.

"Someone's catching on quick."

Inkley rose from his ink, quickly changing back, and turned as Jet approached. She tousled his tentacles and crossed her arms. Inkley realized she had taken her ink-tank off.

"Look at you, makin' a mess of things so naturally." Jet said. "Zoom just texted me. He's on his way here. I'm gonna go out to meet him." Jet jerked her thumb over her shoulder, to where Synthia stood. "Synth's gonna help you get the hang of swimming."

Inkley furrowed his brow in thought. _Swimming._ "'Kay."

Jet nodded and gave Inkley a slap on the back. "Good. Go easy-ish on him, Synth."

"We'll see." Synthia replied, waving as Jet left the room. The door slid shut, and Synthia turned to Inkley. She put her hands on her hips. "Well, let's get to it. I want you to paint a straight line, about twice as wide as your shoulders, from one side of the room to the other."

"On the floor?"

"On the floor. We'll get to stuff on the wall later."

Inkley nodded absently, and set to creating a path. The wild spray of ink from his Junior had no trouble creating the width Synthia had requested, and it was a simple task to walk across the room while depressing the trigger.

Synthia nodded approvingly. "Right. Now…" She paused for a moment, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Fiddling with it, she looked back at Inkley. "Put your hand on the wall, and when you hear the beep, run across the room, touch the other wall, and run back."

Inkley hesitantly set his hand upon the wall. "Wait, how fast should I run?"

"As fast as you want."

Inkley had to think about this while he shrugged off his ink-tank and set it aside. Sprinting would be the fastest, right? He pressed his palm to the wall, tensed his legs, and nodded to Synthia. She waited for a moment, and then Inkley heard the beep. He pushed himself off the wall and ran for the other side of the room as quickly as his legs would allow him. By the time he reached the other side, he was far more winded than he expected himself to be. He slapped his palm against the wall, pivoted on his heel, and tried to push off. Instead of carrying him forward, his feet slid out from beneath him, and he fell forward, landing on his stomach with a meaty _thump_.

Inkley let out a breath, and found that he couldn't take any air back in. He slowly pushed himself up onto his knees and groaned. Looking up, he realized that Synthia was staring at him, her arms crossed.

"... Too fast?" He asked.

"Obviously." Synthia replied. "You have to pace yourself. You don't want to sprint everywhere you go, do you?"

Inkley thought about this for a moment. "I guess not."

"Now, try again."

Dusting himself off, Inkley rose and went back to his starting place. He put his palm on the wall. He gave Synthia a nod. _Beep_. He took off, running at a much more moderate pace than his first attempt. Pivoting as he reached the wall, he slapped his palm against it and turned to run back. His feet followed directions this time. He passed Synthia, slid to a stop, and pressed himself against the wall. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, and exhaled.

"Fifteen-point-six seconds." Synthia said after a moment. "Not bad." She waited another moment. "Now, try again."

Inkley pushed himself off the wall and looked at Synthia. "What..?"

"Once more." She said firmly. "We've gotta get your average time. So you need to do it again."

Inkley exhaled, but lined himself up on the wall again. _Beep_. And he ran it again.

"Fourteen-point-nine seconds." She said. Inkley pressed his back to the wall and sighed. "Once more."

Inkley huffed in exasperation, but, once again, lined up. _Beep_.

"Sixteen-point-two seconds." Synthia said. "Aaaaaand your average is… Fifteen-point-six seconds. Not bad, little squid. Now, you're going to swim the same stretch, the same amount of times." She saw the pained look on Inkley's face, but laughed and waved it off. "Oh, don't worry so much, Inkley. Swimming is _sooooo_ much easier than running. It'll be fine."

Inkley furrowed his brow, but took Synthia at her word. And swim he did. Three times.

"Aaaaand your average time is… Eight-point-three seconds." Synthia said, before stuffing her phone back into her pocket. "That's not bad. Told you, swimming is easier!"

Inkley certainly couldn't argue with her. In fact, he felt better _after_ swimming than he did _before_.

"Now," Synthia said, startling Inkley out of his daze. "Let's try some vertical work." She pointed in the corner, where the floor met the wall. "Paint up the wall."

Inkley nodded absently, reaching for his Junior so he could make the pink wall green. He didn't even have to bother strapping on his tank to do so, and in just a few seconds, the wall was mostly green. Setting his Junior down atop his tank, he dropped into squid form, landing in his own ink with a _splat_ and sinking in quickly. He simply poked his head out and looked expectantly to Synthia. She smiled down at him, and pointed to the wall.

"Alright. You've got the basics of swimming on horizontal surfaces down, but swimming on the walls is a different experience. It…" Synthia paused for a moment, tapping a finger to her chin in thought. " _Feels_ different." She shrugged. "You'll have to get used to it. Go ahead and try."

At Synthia's prompting, Inkley moved to the wall. He looked up at it, suddenly intimidated. _Nothing to do but try…_ He narrowed his eyes, and tried to scale the wall. It was harder than he expected. He had to focus on simply moving. Inkley knew his movements were sluggish, as if he were crawling up the wall instead of swimming.

"See?" Synthia said. "It takes more effort than swimming on a horizontal surface. You'll get the hang of it eventually, but it'll take a lot of getting used to before you can do it naturally." She shrugged. "Well, that's about all she wrote. You're gonna have to practice on your own to really make progress, but feel free to swim some laps."

And Inkley did just that. At some point, he realized he could jump in and out of the ink as he was swimming, and he practiced at that. At first, he was simply hopping from one place on the floor to another, but then he discovered that he could jump _into_ the wall, and immediately got carried away doing that.

Inkley heard the door open, but didn't bother looking. "Someone's havin' fun." Zoom said. Inkley finally stopped swimming, instead flopping out of his ink and changing back into a humanoid. He looked at Zoom, who had his roller slung over his shoulder. Jet appeared beside him, and the closed behind the two of them.

"Right." Jet said lazily. She stabbed a finger at Zoom. "Now that this dingbat is here, he's gonna teach you about rollers." When Zoom didn't move, Jet huffed and him a gentle nudge towards Inkley. " _Well_? Help him, dingbat!"

"Huh..? Oh, yeah!" Zoom shook his head and walked over to where Inkley was. "So, little man, what's the first thing you can tell me about rollers?"

"They're big." Inkley blurted.

"Exactly!" Zoom replied, snapping his fingers for emphasis. "And heavy. It's easy enough to slap a roller and the ground and run in a straight line, especially since momentum keeps you going." While he spoke, Zoom hefted his roller from his shoulder and set it on the ground. "But, since it's heavy, and since momentum keeps you moving forward, moving any direction _other_ than forward can be a pain. See what I'm getting at?"

Inkley nodded thoughtfully. "Go to the side."

"Exactly." Zoom gave his roller an experimental push and pull, before looking back at Inkley. "Or, if you time it right, you can even go _over_."

Inkley stared at Zoom for a moment. " _Over_?"

Zoom nodded. " _Over_. Look." Zoom took a moment to grip his roller properly, putting all his weight into it. "You see the way I'm standing?" Inkley gave a nod. "This is what you'd call a standard roller's posture. Since these things are so big, you gotta put weight into 'em to move 'em. And, if you practice, you can jump _over_ a moving roller."

Inkley took a moment to digest this information. "What about brushes? Those are lighter and faster, right?"

Zoom made a disgruntled sound. "Don't get me started about brushes, little man. Let me put it this way; if you're up against someone using an inkbrush, you don't even have to beat them, because life already has."

Jet laughed, and gave Zoom a slap on the back. "Don't mind Zoom, Squirt. He's a little salty is all. He's right about one thing though; don't worry about brushes for now. That's advanced stuff. We'll deal with that once you've got all the basics down."

Zoom huffed, still mad at the very idea of inkbrushes. "How about we show him?"

Jet looked at Zoom questioningly for a moment. Realization struck her. "Oh! Yeah, sure. Synth, come on. Let's show the little squiddy how to roller-hop."

Synthia gave a shrug. Zoom pulled his roller across the room, setting himself against the wall. Jet positioned herself opposite Zoom, and the two nodded at one another.

"Watch this, Squirt." Jet told him. And then she took off.

Zoom and Jet ran at one another with reckless abandon. Inkley was sure they were simply going to collide and give each other concussions, but at the very last moment, an instant before Zoom's roller, dry as it was, knocked Jet to the floor, she jumped, drawing her legs as close to her body as they could go, and true to their word, they didn't so much as graze one another. Jet seemed to pass effortlessly over Zoom's head, and she landed with a slight skip.

"Well?" Jet asked, a lopsided grin on her face. "Was I amazing, or was I amazing?"

Inkley stared, wide-eyed for a moment. "How did you..?"

"Training!" Jet shouted, cutting Inkley off. "Anyone can do it if they try. And train. You won't get it on your first try. But eventually, if you keep trying and training, you'll be able to hop over nearly anyone rolling at you." Jet punched into her open palm and smirked. "And then you shoot 'em right in the back of their heads!"

"You're not wearing your tank, or even carrying your charger." Inkley said suddenly. He crossed his arms.

Jet sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, you want to see me clear Zoom with a tank and a gun?" She shrugged. "Too bad. Synth will do it, though."

"Sure thing!" Synthia said with a singsong voice. She threw on her tank and hefted her shooter, before moving opposite of Zoom.

Once more, Inkley watched as the older squids charged at each other. Synthia leapt into the air, burdened with both her tank and shooter. Her legs curled beneath her. Yet, she still didn't trip over Zoom. She landed lightly, and twirled on her tip-toes.

"See?" She asked, looking at Inkley. "Full gear!"

Jet was suddenly beside Inkley, and she slapped him on the back. "You'll be able to do that one day! But, for now, let's stick to the fundamentals."

And they did.

* * *

Inkley threw himself down on Jet's sofa with a groan. He let his bag fall to the floor with a _thud_. Jet closed the door to her apartment, locked it, and looked at Inkley, her arms crossed.

"Tired already?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Weak."

Inkley would have given her some kind of comeback, but he was just _too tired_. When Jet told him he would be sore, he thought she was joking. _She wasn't_. Jet smirked at Inkley as she approached, and swatted his legs. With another groan, he swung his feet off the couch and sat up. Jet sat down beside him and turned the TV on.

Callie and Maire appeared on the screen. Inkley wasn't surprised when he saw Inkopolis' sweethearts appear on the screen, but _was_ surprised when he realized this was their newest music video, not another dose of Inkopolis News. A catchy beat prompted a group of attractive youths to randomly burst into coordinated dance in the middle of a turf war, led by the Squid Sisters, of course. Inkley cast a glance at Jet, who absently watched the video, thumping her fist against her thigh in time with the beat.

Setting his head against the armrest, Inkley closed his eyes and exhaled. The rest of the music video passed quickly, and as the beat died off, Inkley opened an eye and watched as Callie and Marie, soaked from head-to-toe in ink, waved over their shoulders at the camera. And the screen went black.

"Hey, Squirt." Jet said suddenly.

"Yeah?" Inkley replied, setting his head back down and staring at the ceiling.

"I have a proposal."

Inkley looked at her. "You're not trying to set me up on another play date with one of your friend's sisters, are you?"

"No!" Jet answered with a huff. "And I apologized for that, like, a billion times."

"She threatened me. _With a spoon_."

"So you keep reminding me! Let it go! Everyone gets threatened with cutlery every once and a while." Jet shook her head and sighed. "That's not what I was talking about, anyway."

With yet another groan, Inkley sat up and gestured wide with his arms. "Well, what is it?"

"How'd you feel if I told you I had us scheduled for a fully-fledged turf war tomorrow at five?" Jet gave a little flourish with her hands, obviously expecting Inkley to be excited.

"Tomorrow? I dunno, I feel like crap right now."

Jet scoffed at him. "You'll feel better after you get some sleep, trust me."

Inkley sighed, trying to visibly convey that he was considering the idea. " _Maaaaybe_... Do you have another team set up for us to go against, or will it just be a bunch of random kids?"

"We have another group of folks for us to go against." Jet said, laughing awkwardly.

Inkley narrowed his eyes at Jet. "Who?"

"Oh, uh… You 'member Cherry?" Jet replied. "Her and a few of her friends."

"Wasn't Cherry on _your_ team?" Inkley asked, crossing his arms.

"Yeah." Jet said sourly.

"Did she quit?"

"Yeah. She's dating the captain of the Tentacled Tangerines… And kind of a member, too."

Inkley's mouth suddenly went dry, at two different prospects; simply seeing Luma, and actually _facing_ her in a turf war. Both made his stomach churn.

"I-I dunno… The Tangerines are, like, good. Semi-pro or something, right?"

Jet sighed. "Look, Inkley. Lemme be straight up for once. The position I'm in sucks. Everything sucks right now. Cherry, who _used_ to be my friend, stabs me in the back by quitting to join a team she wouldn't have been able to get into if she weren't playing tonsil-hockey with the captain. And then, just to twist the knife, she calls me, and challenges us to a turf war she _knows_ we can't win. And, now, here I am, asking my clumsy little brother, who's just old enough to use a shooter, to fight in a turf war everyone knows we're gonna lose." Jet sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You don't have to do this. I shouldn't have asked."

Inkley took a moment to process everything he had been told. He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't immediately speak. "... I'll do it."

Jet spent a moment looking moody, before realizing Inkley had agreed. "Wait, seriously?" Inkley gave a nod. "Sweet! You won't regret this - I mean, you probably will. Your very first turf war is gonna be against a team that's way better than us in every way, which sucks. But, I'll make it up to you somehow, okay? I owe you one, Squirt."

Inkley scoffed. "More than one." He told her, his arms crossed.

Jet blew a raspberry at Inkley and playfully slugged his arm. "I'll think about it. Now, get some sleep." She said, standing a stretching. She headed for her room. "We've got a turf war to lose."

Jet's door closed. Inkley was alone. Sort of. One of the Squid Sisters' older music videos accompanied him into sleep.

* * *

Inkley felt his stomach sink deeper than it ever had before as he watched the Tentacled Tangerines prepare for their turf war at Arowana Mall. They took it _seriously_. They were _actually going to war_. And here Inkley was, with a stupid graphic tee and a clunky old Splattershot Junior, about to go head-to-head with them. Seeing Luma among them didn't help; it helped even less that she was one of the four getting ready. Inkley realized that he was actually _afraid_.

Inkley jumped as Jet slapped him on the back. She laughed.

"Sorry Squirt, didn't mean to startle you." She said. "Holy crap, are you alright? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I only just know realized what I walked into." Inkley replied quietly.

Jet sighed. She crouched beside Inkley and nodded. "Yeah. It sucks. But sometimes, all you can do is all you can do, Squirt." There was a moment of silence. Jet eventually pointed to a fairly complicated-looking vest-rigs the Tangerines were donning. "See those? Those are _spawn-vests_. When you get splatted, you get poofed, and a few seconds later, you respawn back at base."

Inkley knew Jet was just trying to get his mind off of their inevitable defeat. It wasn't working, but he appreciated it nonetheless. "How's that work?"

Jet shrugged. "I dunno. You'd have to ask a geek who _cares_. Since the Tangerines are _really_ competitive, they have their own set. We have to use the ones they have stowed away here. They're not as fancy, but they work the same way."

Nearby, Synthia and Zoom had just finished tending to their own gear. Synthia had everything she needed on her person already. Her spawn-vest, purple like the other three the turf war attendants had given them, was on beneath her ink-tank. She hefted her Jet Squelcher and winked at Inkley when she noticed him looking her way.

Zoom was beside her, his Dynamo Roller leaning against the wall as he put on his vest. After that came his tank, and when he was satisfied with his attire, he hefted his roller over a shoulder and joined the rest of the team.

Synthia handed Jet two spawn-vests, and Jet handed one to Inkley. Inkley set his ink-tank down, his shooter atop his tank, and he pulled his vest on over his head. Jet did likewise, and their entire team was all geared up, ready for war.

Jet gave Inkley a slap on the shoulder. "Hey, Squirt. Now's a great time to explain sub-weapons and specials." Manhandling Inkley, Jet turned him around and slapped the side of his ink-tank. "Feel around the bottom of your tank. You should notice something that stands out."

Inkley stretched at an odd angle, feeling around the bottom of his tank. His fingers brushed over a square button, and a strange, triangular protrusion that gave when he pushed on it, but slid back into its place as soon as he withdrew his hand. "There's a button and… Some other thing."

"Yeah." Jet said. "So, you watch turf wars on TV and junk. You should understand the basic idea. Sub-weapons are pieces of extra equipment that come with your main weapon. Yours is a splat bomb. It's that weird thing you're feeling. It eats up a lot of ink, but it makes a big mess, and you can splat folks really easy with a well-placed bomb. As long as you have enough ink, you just press on the triangle-thingy - that's the bomb. Your tank'll drop the full bomb into your hand. Throw it and watch the ink fly."

Inkley nodded thoughtfully, and reached back to press on the bomb.

Jet slapped his hand away. "Quit screwing with it. It'll only give you a bomb if you have enough ink. Now, that button is your special; a bubbler. It gives you a shield that lasts for a few seconds. It's not very long, but long enough to get you out of a sticky situation. And you can spread your bubble, too. Tap your shooter to a teammate's tank, or shooter, or anything techie, and they'll get a bubble that lasts as long as yours. Try and save bubbles for heavy team-fighting. They can really turn the tide of a war."

"You can't just use specials all willy-nilly, though." Synthia added. "You've gotta ink a certain amount of turf before you can use it."

Jet snapped her fingers and pointed at Synthia. "Right, right, there's that, too. Otherwise, it'd be raining ink-strikes and everyone would always be a monstrous Kraken. Your tank will go _ding_ when your special is ready. Make it count."

Inkley gave a dutiful nod. He was about to speak when a voice crackled over the loudspeaker.

"Attention! All turf war participants come to the staging area for briefing!"

Inkley followed Jet as everyone shuffled towards the entrance to the actual turf for the turf war. A trio of attendants, dressed in matching orange and blue uniforms stood on the top steps of a set of stairs that led into the mall. The lead attendant, a plain looking girl around Jet's age with blue tentacles, stepped forward.

"Tangerines, are your fighters ready?" She asked.

"We are." The captain said. His tentacles were orange, for the upcoming match, but while he was getting ready, Inkley recalled that they were blue. The tangerine on his shirt had a crown on it.

The Tangerines' captain glanced at Jet and her team, and Inkley was immediately struck by how familiar he looked.

" _Blue..?_ " Inkley asked himself quietly.

 _No_ , it wasn't Blue. But his facial structure was incredibly similar. The captain looked to be a few years older than Blue. They _had_ to be related.

"... _Other team_ , are you ready?"

Jet huffed. " _Yeah_. Let's get this over with."

Inkley swore he could hear the condescension in the Tangerines' captain's voice. "Let's."

"Wait! Hold up, I'm here!"

Blue suddenly burst through the small group of onlookers, his roller slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a Tentacled Tangerines shirt.

The Tangerines' captain looked at Blue and smirked. "Too late, little man. Luma's got your spot."

Blue sighed, sending a glance in Luma's direction. She sent him a subtle, _very_ rude gesture. With them standing side by side, Inkley admitted that it was impossible for Blue and the opposing captain to not be brothers. Blue suddenly looked Inkley's way, undoubtedly sizing up the competition, and a brief look of uncomprehending shock crossed his features. Blue seemed to laugh his shock off, however, and he grinned and waved at Inkley.

 _Good luck_ , Blue mouthed. He had a certain, almost challenging look in his eyes.

Inkley looked away first, pretending to fiddle with his shooter. _We're going to need it…_

"Right, if you're _done interrupting_ ," The lead attendant hissed, "Both teams can proceed to their bases, and don their colors. The turf war will begin shortly."

Inkley kept his head down as he followed Jet and the others, spending just a moment to make sure his tentacles were the proper shade of purple. Everyone else on the team did the same as they walked. Their base seemed to be on the far end of the mall, and as they entered Arowana Mall, Inkley spared only a quick glance at the enemy team.

It was almost a mirror-match, if the skill-gap wasn't so large. The other team had two shooters, a roller, and a charger. Cherry was wielding a charger, and she barely spared a glance at her former friends as they passed. The Tangerines certainly seemed confident in themselves, and three of the Tangerines talked excitedly among themselves. Luma was the odd one out.

She was already watching as Inkley looked up. She wasn't looking at him, at first. She seemed to be doing what Inkley was; sizing up her enemy. Then Inkley caught her eye, and she smirked at him. She wiggled her eyebrows at him, gave him a mock salute, and then turned to speak to the rest of her team. Inkley looked back to the ground, and simply followed his team to their base. It hadn't occurred to him to examine his surroundings until he was already standing in his own base.

Jet gave Inkley a thump on the shoulder. "Hey, Squirt. Listen up. Arowana Mall has a lot of raised areas, and most of the action goes on in the very center. The center is a small, raised platform. Like you saw on the way here, the middle path to the center is lower than the actual center, meaning whoever holds the center has a big advantage. But holding it is no easy task. Each base also has two side-paths. One leads to a grated platform that hangs back from the center. The other leads through an alleyway, and flanks the center platform. It's a good way to get a drop on the enemy team when they have the center." Jet exhaled. "So, here's the game-plan; Zoom and Synth are gonna go straight up the middle. I'm gonna take my charger and snipe from the grated pathway on the left. I want you to go to the right, and paint up the alleyway. Maybe chuck a few grenades down into the center. 'Kay?"

Inkley nodded thoughtfully. His gaze flicked to the path on the right. "Got it."

Jet put her hand on top of Inkley's head and gave it a shake, leaving Inkley dazed. "Great! Just stay up there and defend. You'll do great."

The speakers crackled to life. "Teams, fill your tanks!"

Inkley blinked. He watched as Synthia crouched over the large metal pad that made up their base. Four protrusions made themselves known. Synthia pressed a button, and with a hiss, a small hose slid out. Synthia tugged on it until it reached her tank, and she made an exasperated noise.

"Jet, give me a hand." Synthia said.

Jet took the hose from Synthia's hand and plugged it into a small port at the very top of the tank. Glancing to the side, Inkley watched as Zoom filled his own tank, a task which took a remarkable amount of dexterity, judging from the awkward way his arm was bending. Their tanks filled in just a few seconds. Their tanks made a loud beep, and the hoses disconnected themselves. Synthia and Jet switched, with Synthia now filling Jet's tank.

Inkley suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold still, dude." Zoom told him. He connected the hose to Inkley's tank, and Inkley felt the weight on his shoulders increase. His tank beeped, and Zoom released the hose. It immediately shot back to where he had pulled it from. "There. All ready to whoop some ass." He gave Inkley a grin.

And was promptly elbowed by Jet. "Language!"

Zoom opened his mouth to reply when the speakers came back to life. "Both teams have full ink tanks. Get ready to ink! Five, four, three, two, one… _SPLAT_!"

An airhorn sounded somewhere nearby. Inkley watched, somewhat dumbfounded, as his team took off at a full sprint. Zoom's roller was already painting a solid path towards the center. Synthia ran behind him, covering the sides Zoom missed with ink. Jet moved more slowly than them, methodically inking a relatively narrow path to her self-assigned position. Blinking, Inkley realized he had somewhere to be, too, and moved towards the right path, making a conscious effort to cover the ground and walls as he went.

Inkley reached a drop-off, and carefully hopped down, nearly tripping as he landed. Bouncing lightly on his toes, Inkley gauged the fullness of his tank, and after painting a small puddle at his feet, he quickly turned into a squid. After a few moments, he hopped back up onto his feet and continued spraying down the entirety of the alley as he went. Inkley stopped at about halfway through the alley, and listened. Just over the wall he could hear shouting, and ink flying and splatting. Inkley's stomach suddenly felt as though it were full of rocks.

Inkley found it was almost impossible to move his feet. His had to focus on each step. _Left. Right. Left. Right._ He was at the corner now. The entire alleyway was dripping with purple ink. Inkley took the opportunity to distract himself by filling up his tank again. When he rose, he noticed a few splotches of orange, near the very edge of the platform where the alley led out into the rest of the mall.

"This is it, Inkley…" Inkley muttered, creeping towards the edge. He hand slipped behind him, and he tentatively pressed his finger to the bottom of his splat bomb. It gave slightly, clicked, and pushed back.

A bomb fell into his hand. Inkley looked at it and marvelled. It looked like a glass pyramid filled with sloshing ink. He inhaled, and sidled closer to the edge. The sound of fighting was louder now. He exhaled. Peering over the edge, Inkley saw two orange-clad bodies standing in the very center of the platform, one firing towards Inkley's half of the mall, the other busily painting the platform by shaking a roller. Inkley could see Synthia, standing just out of the enemy team's range, firing rather wildly. She glanced at Inkley, but made no other indication that she saw him, and Inkley realized she was waiting for him to do something.

Inkley took a deep breath and threw his the splat bomb down onto the platform. It bounced lightly, before coming to a rest beside one of the Tangerines. The captain, and Blue's older brother, Inkley realized.

"Oh, spla-" was all he could manage before the bomb went off.

A great splash of purple went into the air. The enemy captain disappeared in the wave of ink, and Inkley could barely make out the faint orange outline of a squid floating away. The other Tangerine had just barely managed to throw herself clear, changing into a squid midair.

Zoom suddenly crested over the ramp that led to the center platform, his roller down. He immediately began carving a path towards enemy territory, barely sparing a glance in Inkley's direction as he did so. Synthia came up onto the platform, busily painting turf as she did so. She didn't look at Inkley either, but managed to spare a hand to shoot him a thumbs-up.

"Great job!" She shouted.

Inkley opened his mouth to respond, but could only watch in terror as an orange streak of ink carved its way towards Synthia. It struck her squarely in the chest, and she exploded into a puddle of orange. Inkley felt his chest tighten as he watched a purple squid drift lazily into the sky. It took him a moment to gather his bearings and remember that she would be back in a few seconds, but the sight still stayed with him.

A purple trail of ink suddenly appeared in the orange mess Synthia had left behind.

"Get splatting!" Jet's voice called.

Inkley bit back a retort and busily painted the rest of the orange splotch. He pushed himself against the wall as a spray of orange from the Tangerines' side of the mall made even more splotches. Inkley simply sat there for a moment, trying his best to keep pace with the orange that was coming in. Synthia eventually reappeared, crouching behind the crest of the ramp, dutifully spraying blindly into the air. The spray of purple arced over the platform and went on to splat a fair amount of turf.

Inkley looked up as he caught sight of a brief flash of orange, before feeling what could only be described as weightlessness. Looking down, all he saw was a splotch of orange, and a similar line tracing its way to him from across the platform. There, he saw Luma and Cherry, with Cherry pointing her Kelp Splatterscope at where he was standing. _Or where I_ used to be _standing_ , Inkley realized a moment later. His vision went white a few seconds later, and everything came back to him.

Inkley gasped as he rematerialized. He felt like doubling over and puking. The sensation passed, and Inkley groggily made his way back to his alley. Most of it was still purple, but as Inkley neared the center platform, he realized there was quite a bit more orange there than when he had been splatted. His pace slowed, and he changed into a squid, swimming stealthily towards the orange.

Luma rounded the corner, spraying down the alley with a bored expression on her face. Inkley hastily changed back, and nervously pointed his shooter at her. She paused where she was, and a smile crept onto her face. She pointed her Splattershot into the air, put a hand on her hip, and slowly but purposefully strode towards Inkley. He saw a devious glint in her eyes. Inkley took several steps backwards as she advanced on him. Her smile only grew. In a blur of motion, Inkley was bowled over by Luma. Her knee was on his stomach, and she smirked down at him. Though her shooter's business end was pointed nowhere near him, Inkley felt very unsafe.

" _Howdy_ ," Luma hissed. "Fancy meetin' you here, Inkley. You know, you could have splatted me right there. _Really easy_. But you didn't." She laughed. "You splatted Buck, no problem." She laughed even harder. "Oh, that was great. It only would have been better if it was Blue you got." She shrugged and stood. "They're close enough though." Luma strode back towards the center platform. She stopped, just for a second, to look over her shoulder. "Talk to you later, kid."

And then she was gone. Inkley took a moment to gather himself, before rising and quickly cleaning up the mess Luma had made. He stopped to refill his ink, swam to the edge, popped up, tossed a bomb, and swam away to avoid the inevitable wave of ink that came his way. He stood as close to the edge as he safely could, and fired down onto the platform, mostly for the sake of firing. And then he felt something bowl him over from behind. As he floated upwards, he realized the enemy's roller had somehow gotten _behind_ him.

And, as he respawned, he sighed and resigned himself to a very rough first turf war.

* * *

And rough it was. Though they battled valiantly, the Tangerines spent the entirety of the match dominating the center of the mall.

Judd appeared from thin air, and with a flourish, designated the Tentacled Tangerines the winners of the match. As Inkley and company put their gear away, Cherry and _Buck_ , Blue's older brother, strode over to meet them, hands interlocked, and one of Cherry's longest tentacles wrapped around Buck's forearm.

"Hey, guys." Cherry said, smiling coyly. "I just wanted to come over and say, no hard feelings, right? This was just for fun, after all."

Jet's jaw clenched, but she put on a smile. "Oh, of course."

Cherry smiled again, and she and Buck turned to leave. Cherry stopped, and tousled Inkley's tentacles. "Better luck next time, Inkley."

As Cherry and Buck walked away, Inkley glanced around, and seeing the coast was clear, he gave her the rudest gesture he knew.

"I saw that." Jet said. She laughed and slapped Inkley's back. "Nice job." She sighed, and her hand moved to Inkley's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. This was a bad example of a turf war. You'll get a _good_ one later. For now, what do you say we go visit Frank for some comfort food?"

Inkley smiled and gave a nod. "That sounds great."

"Thought so. We'll be heading out in a minute."

Inkley looked past Jet, to Luma. He wanted to go talk to her, but she seemed to be talking to Blue. Or, _Blue_ was talking to _her_ , and she was barely pretending to listen. Inkley sighed, and with all his gear put away, threw his bag on over his shoulders and waited for the others to get ready. And they left not too long after.

* * *

They arrived at Fishy Frank's at seven. Strangely enough, the diner was almost barren. Frank himself floated at the front counter, busily wiping it down with a towel. He looked up as the four entered, and waved at them.

"Hey there," He said with a smile, still wiping the countertop. "Haven't seen you four together is a while."

"We've had a rough day, Frank." Jet said, sighing as she slid into a booth. "Can we get a pizza? Don't care what's on it."

"Lucky you, I got a few pepperoni pies just lying around." Frank said, slipping into the kitchen.

Zoom sat beside Jet, and Synthia slid into the seat opposite them. Inkley sat down next to Synthia, and put his head in his hands. Not a moment later, Frank emerged from the kitchen with a pizza on a platter. He set it down on the table and went back to his spot behind the counter.

"Rough day?" Frank said as he took up his towel once more. "That sounds like it has a story behind it."

Jet reached for a slice of pizza with a nod. "Yeah. You remember Cherry?"

"Redhead?"

"Yeah. She started dating this guy, the captain of the Tentacled Tangerines. A few days ago, she called me, told me quit our team to join the Tangerines, and then challenged us to a turf war." Jet took a large bite of pizza and paused as she chewed. "So, I had to drag Inkley into this just to compete in a turf war we were bound to lose anyway."

Frank gave a thoughtful nod as he continued to wipe the counter. "That is pretty rough." Frank said after a while. "Sorry to hear that, kids."

Jet laughed and shrugged. "Yeah. Here we are, to drown our sorrows. Oh well."

They ate in silence heavy silence after that. Inkley managed to down two slices before he decided he wanted something sweet. His mind made up, he stood up and went to the counter. The others watched him go but said nothing. Struggling slightly thanks to his height, Inkley eventually managed to clamber up onto the tall stools at the counter.

"Hey, Frank." Inkley said as he wiggled himself into a comfortable position in his seat.

"Hey, Inkley." Frank replied, looking at Inkley expectantly.

"Do you have ice cream? Like, a sundae or something?"

"Suppose I do." Frank said, smiling. "What's it to ya?"

"I want to buy one."

"Alright kiddo. One sundae, coming up." Frank said with a laugh. He disappeared into the kitchen once more.

Inkley fished a coin from his pocket and waited patiently. Frank returned with a rather large sundae in a plastic cup, with a metal spoon sticking out of it.

"Thanks, Frank." Inkley said, pushing to coin to the other side of the counter.

Frank pushed it back, however. "This one's on the house, Inkley. Losing your first turf war is rough stuff." Inkley smiled and pocketed the coin. "But, you gotta tell me what happened."

Inkley frowned thoughtfully, and gave a nod. And he regaled Frank with the story of his first turf war, taking small spoonfuls of ice cream in between sentences. Frank, for the most part, listened patiently, his towel falling still. He gently encouraged Inkley for details during specific parts of the story, but otherwise remained quiet.

Eventually, Inkley finished his tale, with more than half of his sundae left.

"Thanks for telling me, Inkley." Frank said. He nodded respectfully. "I hope your next turf war goes better, kiddo." His voice dropped. "If it doesn't, come see me. Maybe we can make a similar arrangement." He added, pointing to the sundae.

Inkley laughed. "Thanks, Frank. I can see why Jet likes it here so much."

Frank returned the laugh. "Jet likes it here? Coulda fooled me, the way she's always just lazing around. _Loitering_!" He shouted the last word directly at Jet.

Jet grinned and waved. "You know me, Frank! Loitering is my favorite passtime."

The door opened for the first time since Inkley entered. He couldn't help but glance, and he simply gawked when he realized that it was Luma who walked in. She had her gear-bag with her. She strode over to Inkley, dropped her bag, and sat beside him.

"Hey." She said.

Inkley stared at her for a moment before responding. "Uh, hey." There was a long, awkward pause. "Did you… Follow us?"

Luma shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. Blue just kept talking, and _talking_. And then Buck called a team meeting, and _he_ kept talking and _talking_ , so I snuck away. Figured I might as well talk to you."

"Why?"

Luma just shrugged again. "Don't know. Figured you'd have something to talk about."

Another silence. It seemed deafening.

"I didn't know Blue was on your team. Or that his brother was your captain." Inkley said at last.

"Yeah."

"So, is that what you meant when you said you knew Blue more than I did?"

"Yeah." Luma sent Inkley a sidelong glance. "Wasn't it obvious?"

Inkley wasn't sure if she was being serious or not. Luma glanced at something, and after a moment, Inkley realized it was his sundae. It was starting to melt.

"Are you, uh, hungry?" Inkley asked.

Another shrug. "I could eat."

Inkley nodded. "Hey, Frank. Can we, uh, get another spoon?"

Frank reached under the counter and offered Luma a spoon. "A spoon for the lady." And then he went off to do something else, giving Inkley a none-too-subtle smile as he did so.

"Thanks." Was all Luma said, before taking a hefty scoop of ice cream and unceremoniously scarfing it.

Inkley took a much smaller bite and waited for something to happen.

"Your game was a little off today." Luma said in between bites.

"What..?"

"During the turf war. You were a little off. Your team was outclassed, but you, _personally_ , could have done better." Luma told him. She pointed at him with her spoon. "Blue said it was like you've never been in one before. I hate agreeing with him, but he was right."

Inkley felt heat rise in his cheeks. He had to fight his own body for control over his tentacles, which rippled at Inkley's incoming admission. "W-well… It kinda… _Was_ my first turf war."

Luma stared hard at Inkley for nearly a minute on end. "Seriously?"

Inkley looked at the counter. "Yeah."

Luma exhaled. "That sucks. We _whooped_ you guys. And that was your first war? Ouch."

Inkley continued to stare at the counter. " _Yeah_."

There was an especially awkward silence. So awkward that it seemed even Luma felt it.

Luma eventually sighed. "Well, you know what that means? Now I've got to train you."

Inkley blinked, and looked up at Luma. "What? Why?"

Luma sighed again. "Well, first, now I feel bad for going so hard when it was your _first turf war_. Second, it'll probably piss off Blue _and_ Buck, which is a bonus." She looked around for a moment, before taking a napkin from a nearby dispenser, a pen from her pocket. "Here, right down your phone number."

"I, uh, don't have a phone." Inkley replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well, what _do_ you have?"

"A profile on Squidder."

"Then _write it down_."

Inkley hurriedly wrote his Squidder profile down, and Luma stuffed the napkin into her pocket. She hopped from her seat, picked up her bag, and turned to walk away. She stopped just for a moment.

"Thanks for the ice cream, Inkley." She said, waving over her shoulder. "Talk to you later." And then she was gone.

Inkley was so absorbed in his conversation with Luma that he hadn't realized Frank's place was filling up rather quickly. Inkley looked at what was left of the sundae, and decided he wasn't hungry anymore. With that in mind, he set his spoon down, and turned his seat around. He watched curiously as a tall figure passed the window, and waited, expecting to see Luma. She never passed, leaving Inkley to spend a moment wondering about the figure. He shrugged it off as a shrimp, and went back to sit with everyone else. They all stared at him.

"When did you get a girlfriend, Squirt?" Jet asked with a smirk.

"Little Inkley's growing up _soooo_ fast." Synthia said in a sing-song voice.

"She wasn't bad-looking, kid." Zoom added. "Nice catch."

Jet immediately elbowed Zoom in the stomach. "Quiet, you." She looked at Inkley. "That girl was a Tangerine. You're dating the enemy?"

Inkley huffed. "Shut up. We're not dating."

Zoom opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by Jet.

"If you say anything close to what I think you're thinking about, I'll hurt you, Zoom."

Zoom laughed and shrugged.

Jet leaned in towards Inkley. "So, seriously, Inkley. Who is she?"

Inkley thought about this for a moment. "She's Luma." He said plainly.


	7. Inspiration

After paying their share of the bill, Inkley and Jet left. They waved to their friends as they left, before setting on the path back to Jets. Inkley let out a shuddering breath as he finally let the weight of the day fall on him. His smile evaporated, replaced by a weary frown. He and Jet walked in silence for several minutes. Eventually, he felt something nudge his side.

"Real talk." Jet said, looking him in the eyes. "That Luma girl. Are you guys an item?"

Inkley sighed. "No." He snapped, his response more venomous than he had intended it to be. His shoulders slumped and he sighed again.

There was a moment of silence. "I really am sorry about all of this." Jet said, shaking her head. "It all went even worse than I thought it would have. Seriously." She looked away from Inkley. "Sorry. About makin' you look bad in front of a cute girl, and all." The heavy atmosphere fell away as Jet cracked a grin.

Inkley wanted to be mad at her, but he couldn't help but grin in return. "Shut up." He said, but both of them knew he didn't mean it.

"I know today sucked and all, but when you've hit rock bottom, there's only one way to go. Things will get better, don't worry." Jet told Inkley, giving him an encouraging slap on the shoulder for emphasis. "Mom won't mind if you stay an extra night. If you're anything like me, you probably just wanna chill and watch some TV."

"I need a shower." Inkley said. "I got ink in places ink doesn't belong today."

Jet laughed and shook her head. " _Oh_ , that's _gross_. I don't need to hear that." She gave Inkley a light shove.

Inkley sighed again, and he felt all the tension flow out of his body with his breath. Nothing could change how awful the day had turned out, but it was all a distant memory now. Everything was going to be _alright_. He was going to be _alright_. Inkley stuffed both hands into his pockets as he and Jet walked back to her apartment. _The day even had a sort of silver lining, maybe,_ Inkley thought. Luma was offering to train him. _Luma!_ Just the thought sent shivers up Inkley's spine.

And then the trepidation hit him like a brick wall. Inkley never considered what might happen if he didn't meet her standards. The shiver of anticipation turned to one of dread as Inkley realized he was nowhere near Luma's level, even if it was his best day and her worst. _Splat, she's gonna drop me like a sack of fish crap. I don't stand a chance._ The dread built up within Inkley until all he could do was exhale to keep himself from breaking down on the spot. Jet either didn't notice or didn't mention Inkley's impromptu breathing exercises, and they returned to Jet's apartment in silence. As soon as Jet's door was opened, Inkley slid through and tossed his bag onto the floor.

"You still takin' that shower, Squirt?" Jet asked, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Yeah…" Inkley replied sullenly. "I need it."

Jet gave Inkley a nod and flopped down onto the couch, kicking her feet up onto the table and turning the TV on. Inkley dug out a clean outfit and headed to the bathroom. With the door closed behind him, Inkley slumped against it, and let his head fall forward. He exhaled, hung his clean clothes on the towel rack, and stripped, tossing his wadded, dirty clothing onto the floor. He started the shower, and out of curiosity, went to the mirror while he waited for the water to warm up. Flexing, Inkley wanted to tell himself that he saw more definition in his biceps than before, but wasn't quite sure. He was, however, sure that he was still _incredibly_ sore, and he groaned as he let his arms down. After a moment, he went back to the shower, and stuck his arm in. _That felt nice…_ Inkley stepped in and closed the curtain behind him. All the worries in the world were washed away by the hot water, and Inkley let his mind go blank, idly mumbling to himself as he washed. Inkley massaged his sore muscles and nearly all of the stress of the day melted away.

An indiscriminate amount of time passed, and, feeling satisfied with his cleanliness, Inkley stretched languidly as he shut the water off and stepped out into the bathroom. Snatching a towel hanging from the rack, Inkley took his time in drying himself off and dressing. He was in no rush right now. Standing in nothing but his boxers, Inkley wiped the fog from the mirror and looked at himself again. He stared into his reflection, and took a deep breath. _In. Out._

"I'm going to be _alright_." He mumbled, and he felt more certain about it than he had before.

Inkley threw the rest of his clothes on, scooped up his dirty clothes from the floor, and walked back into the living. He stuffed his dirty clothes into his bag and let himself fall down onto the couch.

"Feeling better?" Jet asked after a moment.

"Yeah." Inkley replied, kicking his feet up onto the table and putting his arms behind his head. "A lot better."

They fell into a comfortable silence. A commercial for Krak-On brand gear had just wrapped up, and a behind-the-music documentary about the Squid Sisters came on, about the creative process they went through while making their latest album. Inkley tried to be interested in it, but found himself dozing. His head lolled back, and the channel changed suddenly. It was a sitcom about a turf war team that lived together in a large house. Inkley had seen some of the episodes, and followed along the best he could.

Some time passed, and Jet stood and stretched with a yawn. "Alright, kiddo. I'm gonna hit the hay. We gotta head out early so mom doesn't pitch a fit at me for kidnapping you."

"Alright, Inkley said. "Night."

"Night." Jet called back as she went to her door.

Inkley stood and trudged to turn the lights off. Laying down on the couch, he watched the TV from the corner of his eye. He drifted off to sleep not long after.

* * *

Inkley woke, and with a glance at the far wall, knew he had to get up. It was almost seven-thirty, and he'd have to be home by nine to assure his mother that Jet hadn't sold him at the Booyah Base. He stood with a groan, and stretched. He made his way to the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal, and realized that Jet still wasn't up.

"Jet!" Inkley called. "Wake up!"

"Ten more minutes!"

"Mom's gonna be mad!"

Inkley could hear Jet groan from where he was standing. He shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth and cocked an eyebrow as Jet's door opened. she stepped out, rubbing one eye, looking hastily dressed.

"Food." She said, trudging to the bathroom.

Inkley sighed, but fixed another bowl of cereal for Jet. She came out of the bathroom a minute later, and they ate in silence.

"Alright." Jet said as she finished. "Give me five minutes, get your crap, and we'll head out." And she went back into her room.

Inkley shrugged and finished his cereal, before going back to the couch. He pulled his bag over to his feet and went through it, making sure he had all of his things with him. He did, and so he spent the next few minutes dozing with his arms behind his head. Eventually, he felt a slap on his leg, and he opened his eyes to see a far more organized Jet looming over him.

"C'mon, let's head out." She said with a wave, moving towards the door. "Mom's probably miffed at us already."

Inkley stood and shouldered his bag while Jet turned off the TV. And they left.

* * *

They arrived home at eight forty-five. Inkley opened the door and strode inside.

"Mom?" he called tentatively.

A moment passed, and dread built within Inkley as he wondered if his mother had already left for work. And then she appeared in the kitchen doorway, and he breathed out in relief.

"Oh?" His mother said mischievously. "I thought you ran away."

Inkley's shoulders slumped, and he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, mom…"

"Inkley, there's a clean load of your laundry in the dryer. Be a dear take it up to your room?" His mother asked.

Inkley knew she was trying to get rid of him, but there was little to do about it. He shuffled past her, but stopped at the threshold of the laundry room.

"Mom, before you yell at Jet…" Inkley began, wringing his hands. "It was my fault we were late. We lost track of time yesterday, and I said you wouldn't mind if I stayed an extra night. Sorry. Don't be mad at Jet."

Inkley heard a sigh from behind him. "Dear, I'm not mad. Just… _Worried_. Call next time, okay?" she gave him a pat on the back. "Laundry."

Inkley nodded and dutifully did what he was told. He knew his mother and Jet would still have a _talk_ , but he hoped that what he said would help keep Jet out of the fire. Inkley went up the stairs at a light trot, laundry-basket in his arms. He had to balance the basket on a leg to open his door, and once inside his room, he set the laundry basket down in the corner, put his bag in his closet, and threw himself down on his bed. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes, perfectly content to simply lie there for a while.

Eventually, the door opened. Inkley cracked an eye to peek at Jet as she stood in his doorway. He gave a halfhearted wave and groaned.

"Hey, Squirt. Glad to see you're feeling better." Jet said. She leaned on the doorframe. "I'm heading home. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Inkley rolled onto his back and sat up. He gave her a nod. "Yeah. See you."

Jet waved as she turned and disappeared. Inkley fell back onto his bed and closed his eyes. A nap sounded _really_ good.

"I'm leaving for work, dear!"

"Bye mom!" Inkley called back, not bothering to move. A few moments later, he heard the door open and close.

Inkley sank further into his bed, and finally took that nap he had been waiting for.

* * *

Inkley rose from his bed, yawning and stretching lazily. Despite the grogginess that came with sleeping in the middle of the day, Inkley felt much better than before. He slid out of bed and stood, wobbling as the feeling returned to his legs. He trudged out of his room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen to get a drink. After downing two glasses of juice, Inkley felt even better. With a third glass in-hand, he returned to his room to waste time on the internet. And waste time he did. It started with music videos. And then videos of professional turf fighters doing amazing things. From there, Inkley found himself watching stupid videos about people doing stupid things and hurting themselves. At some point, he had switched over to online forums, where people talked about things ranging from the finer points of the use of the roller, to which Squid Sister was "better".

Until a _ding_ from the computer drew Inkley's attention. An IM was waiting for him.

" _Inkley."_ It read.

Inkley could do little but stare at it for a moment. " _Yeah?"_

" _Meet me at the Plaza, at ten-thirty. Not eleven."_

" _Luma?"_

" _Duh. Remember, ten-thirty, not eleven."_

" _Why so early?"_

" _Training. Bring all your stuff."_

Inkley leaned back in his chair, put his face in his hands, and sighed. _This was going to be problematic._ He had enough trouble sneaking out the first time around, but now he had to do it half an hour earlier? Inkley let his head roll back, and he breathed out. _Ding_. Inkley looked at the computer screen, and sighed again as he read that Luma had logged off.

With nothing better to do, Inkley turned his computer off, and went downstairs. He didn't quite know what he was doing, until he realized it was almost noon. He couldn't help but smile, and he made a casual lap around the house, checking to see if there was any laundry to do. there wasn't, and so he went into the kitchen and snatched a pack of kelp-cookies. And then he went into the living room, tossing the cookies down on the coffee table before walking to the window. He looked out into the street, and saw that it was almost completely empty. A child, just barely old enough to walk it seemed, played in the front yard of the house across the street, swinging a stick about animatedly. Inkley smiled at the child's means of entertaining herself, and flopped down on the couch. He turned the TV on, and flipped to his guilty pleasure channel.

"I friggin' love cartoons…"

* * *

 _Ten. I need to leave soon._

Inkley sighed. He had everything he would need in his bag. His mother was downstairs, in the living room, reading a novel. Inkley went down the stairs, and stood in the doorway. He was incredibly relieved to see that the curtains were closed.

"Mom?" Inkley called quietly.

His mother looked up from her novel and smiled at him. "What is it, dear?"

"I'm going to bed early."

She frowned worriedly at him. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"N-no, it's just…" Inkley paused. "It was a long weekend, and I'm kind of tired."

She nodded and smiled once more. "Alright, dear. I might call it an early night too, in that case. Good night, dear."

"Night, mom."

Inkley went back up to his room and closed the door behind him. He waited for a moment, and thought he heard a door close downstairs. He breathed out in relief, and examined his handiwork. From the doorway, the lump beneath the blankets certainly looked like a sleeping body. Inkley nodded, satisfied with it, and moved to the window. His bag was sitting below it, full with all his gear and a spare shirt, should he need it. A black hoodie sat on top of the bag, crumpled up. Inkley quickly tugged it on over his shoulders. He quietly opened the window and peered out into the street. It seemed to be empty. Inkley did exactly what he had before. He lowered his bag out the window, and dropped it onto the grass. Just as it hit dirt, however, a car pulled around the corner, the headlights stabbing accusingly at Inkley. He dropped to a knee, hiding behind the windowsill. The car carried on down the street, and disappeared into the night. Inkley peered back outside, wanting to be absolutely sure no one else was around. Satisfied, he tossed one leg over the windowsill, then the other, and dropped. He changed into a squid midair, landed, and quickly changed back.

With a hiss, he realized he hadn't put his hood up, and hurriedly did so. Another set of headlights came down the street, and Inkley dropped onto his stomach and pressed himself into the dirt as it passed. Huffing, he rose, shouldered his bag, and stealthily made off down the street, towards the train station. As before, it wasn't a particularly eventful walk, with the odd car or truck rolling down the street. Inkley kept his head forward to avoid any strange looks, and before he knew it, he was at the local train station. A train arrived just as Inkley walked into the station. More bodies exited it than Inkley would have expected, considering the time of night, but Inkley was the only one getting on. The car was, once again, almost empty, with only two other riders, one at the very front, the other at the very back.

Not one to break the system, Inkley sat in the very middle, and simply watched out the window as the landscape rolled by.

" _Now stopping at Inkopolis Plaza station._ "

Inkley stood as the train came to a halt, and exited as the doors slid open. He put his hood down and walked to the center of the plaza, knowing well enough Luma would approach him eventually.

"Hey, kid." Called a familiar voice, and Inkley wasn't disappointed. "You're on time."

Inkley turned to where the voice had come from, and wasn't at all surprised when he saw Luma sitting on a bench, her gear bag beside her. She was wearing a white tee, with a black star across the chest, as well as her usual shorts and an orange cap that blended almost seamlessly with her tentacles.

"Hey." Inkley said, walking up to where she sat. "So… Training?"

Luma shrugged. "I lied about that. There's something I want to show you." With that, she stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Luma led the way towards the Squid Sisters' studio. Inkley followed her quietly, and realized after a moment that there was something stuck on the second story window. They ascended the ramp, and Inkley saw it was a poster. It featured both of the Squid Sisters, posing while wearing an attractive ensemble of athletic clothing that matched both of their color-schemes. Callie was holding a shooter, while Marie was holding a charger. Inkley noticed, after a moment, that everything they were wearing or holding lacked a brand. _Clever_. Both of the Squid Sisters had occasionally splotches of ink on them, and the background, an indiscriminate brick alleyway, was also covered in ink. Below the Squid Sisters was a bold logo, written as if it were painted with a large brush. _SPLATFEST_ , it read. Inkley's heart skipped a beat when he saw it.

"Splatfest…" Inkley breathed, his voice quiet and reverent.

Luma gave him a lopsided grin. "You excited too, huh?"

Inkley glanced at Luma for a minute, before turning back to the poster. "How could I not be? That's a huge deal!"

"Quiet down." Luma hissed. "I saw some dude put this up literally ten minutes ago."

Inkley nodded absently, and leaned closer to look read the date below the logo. His heart skipped another beat. "Holy crap, that's in, like, a month."

Luma nodded, her grin only growing. "I know, right? I mean, that's only the start of qualifiers, but still. _Splatfest_. Can't wait for the festival to get started."

Inkley spent a moment getting lost in memories of the Splatfest festival. The lights strung up all over Inkopolis, all the stalls, shops and carts that set up in the middle of Inkopolis Plaza, just for Splatfest, Callie and Marie's impromptu performances in the middle of the plaza… The thought alone of all these activities sent a shiver of delight up Inkley's spine. He recalled being there for one of those performances, several years ago. His mother had taken him into the plaza to buy a souvenir, when Callie appeared on the stage that had been set up, and randomly burst into song. The memory was exhilarating.

"So, yeah." Luma said eventually, breaking Inkley out of his trance. "I wanted you to see this. Because it's important, yeah? Inspiration to get better."

Inkley nodded absently. "Yeah… I guess."

Luma slid past Inkley and flicked his arm. "C'mon. Let's put our stuff away and get ready for the show."

With no reason to argue, Inkley followed after her, trotting down the ramp to catch up. They passed the Booyah Base, and Inkley slowed for a minute, to peer into the windows at the items on display. Everything looked so sleek, so fashionable, so _fresh_. Inkley inwardly sighed when he considered how _unfresh_ he was. From what Jet had told him, Inkley had little doubt in his mind that the owners of the shops would turn their noses up at him the moment he walked in. Pushing those thoughts aside, Inkley shucked his bag and took out his shooter and its tank. Luma did likewise, and into the dumpster their bags went. And then they waited.

They didn't have to wait long. Blue appeared in the mouth of the alleyway, with the same two boys Inkley noticed hanging around him before at his heels. For the second time in as many days, Inkley saw Blue with a look of almost comical shock on his face. Once more, he shook it off quickly, replaced by the amiable smile he always wore.

"Hey!" Blue called, giving a short wave as he approached. "Didn't think anybody'd beat us here." He laughed and shrugged as he unslung his bag and tossed it into the dumpster. He unfolded his roller and put it over his shoulder. "Oh well." He looked directly at Inkley and nodded. "Glad to see you again. Though, the last time we met was really unexpected."

"Y-yeah," Inkley replied, looking down at the Junior in his hands. "I certainly didn't expect it either."

Blue looked very uncomfortable. "So, uh, about that turf war…"

"It was his first." Luma interjected, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. " _Ever._ "

Momentary incomprehension crossed Blue's face. "What..?"

"Yeah." Luma said. "Green as the tentacles on his head. You _ass_."

Blue breathed out, appearing even more uncomfortable than before. "Damn, I didn't know that. That's _rough_ , man. You guys got _whooped_."

Inkley sighed. He wasn't quite fond of how everyone kept reminding him of how awful that experience was. "Yeah. It sucked."

"I'm, uh, sorry, for what it's worth." Blue offered, shrugging weakly.

Inkley gave a half-hearted nod and looked to the side. "Yeah. Me too."

Blue and the two boys at his heels stayed no longer than they needed to, and quickly underground.

As soon as they went into the sewer, Luma let out a laugh.

"Oh, that was _great_." Luma said, shaking her head. "Priceless. Did you _see_ the look on his face?"

Inkley cocked an eyebrow at Luma, and after a moment, she sighed. "You're no fun. Why do I keep you around?"

"'Cuz he's cute."

Both Inkley and Luma turned as Lilith sauntered into the alley.

Luma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You keep saying that." She said.

"So?" Lilith asked. She wore the same hoodie Inkley had last seen her in, though her hood was down, and she carried her charger in an elongated bag much like Jet's. Her tentacles were pink, and her eyes were a bright green.

Luma groaned. "Well, at least kids are starting to show up. Let's head down."

And, just like last time, Inkley swore that he was having the best time of his life.

* * *

Inkley wiped the last of the ink from his hoodie as he shouldered his bag. Luma walked backwards, towards the mouth of the alley, and looked at Inkley expectantly.

"You bring money?" She asked.

"Yeah." Inkley replied. "Snacks."

"Snacks." Luma echoed, laughing and turning around to walk normally. "You're catching on."

Luma led Inkley to the very same store they went to before. The same clerk was working, and she smiled knowingly as Luma and Inkley entered. As they approached the counter with their arms full of candy and soda, her smile only grew.

"A bit late out for two little squiddies like you, isn't it?" She asked.

"Probably." Luma answered.

Inkley frowned. _This seems familiar._

"So, you gonna introduce your friend, Luma?" the clerk asked, leaning over the counter and smirking at Inkley. Her smirk seemed _incredibly_ familiar.

"Probably not." Luma replied, giving a half-hearted shrug.

The clerk just laughed. "Have fun, squiddies." She said.

They left the store. Inkley waited a moment before asking the obvious question.

"Do you know her?"

Luma shrugged and took a swig of soda. "Probably."

Inkley sighed, and knew he probably wasn't going to get a better answer than that. He pondered a few things as he and Luma boarded the train.

"Can I ask a dumb question?" Inkley found himself asking.

Luma seemed to think about this for a minute, idly chewing her candy. "You can ask. I can't stop you. But I might not answer."

Inkley found her response far more deep than he would have expected, but shook it off. "Earlier, you asked why you kept me around, and, I've kind of been… Y'know. W-wondering the same thing. Why are you hanging out with… M-me?"

Luma thought about this too. For far longer than Inkley liked. "I saw you with your shooter, the day the entire plaza got painted. I thought, _hey, this kid seems to know what's up_."

When she didn't say anything more, Inkley couldn't help but respond. "But… You've seen that I… I _don't_ know what's up."

"Yeah." Luma said, nodding. "And, I guess that's kinda why I keep you around, when I think about it. Since you don't know what's up, you look at things differently than everyone else."

Inkley knew it was dumb, but decided to press his luck. "So… When you said you were going to… train me..?"

"I meant it." Luma said immediately. "I wouldn't lie about that kind of thing. Turf war is a serious business." She looked up, and saw Inkley's questioning gaze. She sighed. "Potential. Everyone's got it. Even a green little squid like you. _Especially_ a green little squid like you. Unrecognized potential is one of the biggest wastes. I've seen a ton of squids quit fightin' because they lost their first wars. It sucks when that happens. I lose a potential enemy. A _challenge_. The turf scene loses a potential champ. The squids who quit lose a whole lot of potential fun." She looked Inkley dead in the eyes. "Get it?"

Inkley had to think for a moment before he felt he truly got it. He gave her a nod. Strangely, her speech, which wasn't that reassuring, made Inkley feel immensely better about his place in the world.

 _Everything's gonna be okay._

"Besides that, you're the only kid I know who can fluster Blue that easily. That's pretty great, _too_. Anyone who can make him look like more of an ass is cool in my book."


	8. Taste of Victory

"So, on Wednesday, I'm taking you to fight in a _proper_ turf war." Luma said as the train rocked. Seeing the incredulous look Inkley gave her, Luma elaborated. "Against a bunch of random kids. Not a semi-pro team."

"Oh." Inkley replied. "That _would_ be… Better."

Luma scoffed, shaking her head and laughing. " _Duh_. And with me on your team, you're pretty much guaranteed a few wins." She bared her fangs in an undeniably cocky grin. "Maybe then you'll quit bein' such a sadsack."

Inkley gave her a nervous smile in return. "Y-yeah." And though he was smiling, Inkley wondered if he could survive following in Luma's wake. Inkley was certain of one thing; _Luma makes a big splash. I hope her waves don't carry me away._

* * *

Inkley pulled his hood tighter around his head as he crept onto his own street. No houses had any lights on. There were two street lights, one on the corner Inkley stood, and another on the other end of the street. And plenty of shadow in between them. Inkley stepped out from under the light and made his way back to his home. He slowed as he stepped onto his own front yard, and carefully slid up to the front door. He slowly turned the doorknob, and was relieved to find the door still unlocked. Opening and closing it slowly, Inkley carefully climbed the stairs and went to his room. Gently closing the door, he let out a groan and put his bag in the closet, before kicking off his shoes and throwing himself into bed. A cool breeze rolled into his room, and he wrapped the sheets around himself, and drifted off to blissful sleep.

* * *

"Inkley, sweetie? It's time to wake up."

Inkley groaned, and rolled to the side as he realized he was awake. He was cocooned in his sheets, and at a length, he unraveled himself and sat up. His mother was standing halfway through the doorway. She looked at him questioningly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and groggily stood.

"Dear, why are you fully dressed?" She asked.

Inkley looked down at his body and realized that he was still wearing all of his clothing from last night. "Uh… I got cold…"

His mother's eyes went past him, to the window. "Because you left your window open."

Inkley blinked, and looked over his shoulder. "I guess I did." He looked back to his mother and shrugged weakly. "I was _really_ tired."

His mother arched an eyebrow at him, but said nothing else on the matter. "Well, I wanted to make sure you were alright before I went to work."

"Yeah." Inkley replied, rubbing his head. "I'm alright… I think I'm gonna lay down a bit longer, though…"

His mother frowned worriedly at him. "Don't sleep too long, dear. It's bad for you. I'm going now. _Love you_."

Inkley flopped back down on his bed and gave his mother a thumbs-up. "Love you, too, mom."

And a few moments later, she was gone. Inkley didn't even bother to close the window, opting instead to simply stare up at the ceiling trying to sleep. After five minutes of mind-numbing boredom, Inkley sat back up and trudged to the kitchen. Unable to sleep, and feeling completely awful, Inkley could do nothing but make himself a bowl of cereal. With breakfast in-hand, he sat himself down on the couch and ate in silence, with not even the TV to accompany him. Getting something in his stomach made him feel a little better, and he went back for seconds. With a full belly, Inkley felt he could actually make it through the day.

* * *

Two days passed. Wednesday morning, Inkley sat at his computer, munching on an apple, waiting for some kind of message from Luma. He waited for nearly two hours before an IM appeared in the corner of his screen.

" _Inkley."_

" _Luma."_

" _Ok, smartass. Meet me at the plaza, at 1. Bring your gear. Time to properly pop your cherry."_

" _Alright. See you there."_

And then Luma logged off, as quickly as she had logged on. Inkley frowned and checked the time. He still had an hour and a half to kill, and so, he powered down his computer and went to the kitchen to find something lunch-worthy. The time passed excruciatingly slowly. TV didn't help, Inkley found. At some point, he found himself reduced to watching the minutes pass as he stared at the clock. Finally, at twelve-fifteen, Inkley found he couldn't wait anymore. He gathered all of his things, making sure to pick up the spare house-key, and walked out the front door, locking it behind him. And the trip to the plaza began.

Inkley stepped off the train into the plaza at twelve-fifty, and looked around. Inkopolis Plaza was alive as ever, with inklings of all ages hustling about, window-shopping at the Booyah Base, trying to sneak a glimpse of the Squid Sisters, or generally loitering around. Inkley found himself a shady spot next to an alleyway and leaned against the wall so he could watch the crowd until Luma made her presence known. He spied a group of four, standing close together, wearing matching shirts and talking animatedly. _A squad_. Inkley sighed when he realized that he didn't even have enough friends to form a squad.

"Inkley!"

Inkley blinked and glanced around. _That definitely wasn't Luma's voice._

"Hey, Inkley!"

Inkley's jaw dropped as a figure emerged from the crowd. "Brine? What're you doing here?"

Brine came trotting over to Inkley, nearly bowling over several inklings in the process. "Hey, man. I'm here to get my shooter looked at. It's been clogging up lately." Brine sent Inkley an unsure look. "What're _you_ doing here?"

"I'm here to do a turf war." Inkley replied matter-of-factly.

"By yourself?"

"No."

"Then with who? Jet?"

"Inkley. Who's the kid?"

The sudden question, asked by an unseen figure, made both Inkley and Brine start. They both turned to look at Luma, who stood beside them, her bag over one shoulder and her arms crossed. She stared expectantly at Inkley.

"L-Luma, this is Brine." Inkley introduced, his heart skipping a beat. "He's my friend."

"He can't come with us." Came Luma's immediate response.

"I know!" Inkley stammered, heat rising in his cheeks. "H-he wasn't going to."

Luma glanced between the two, before shrugging and turning away. "Good. C'mon." With that, she began walking casually towards the base of the Inkopolis Tower.

Brine watched her as she walked. "She's hot."

Inkley scowled and slugged Brine on the arm, before running to catch up with Luma. Narrowly avoiding collisions with at least three other inklings, he slowed to match her pace. Seemingly not noticing or not bothered by the fact that Inkley wasn't beside her the whole time, she carried on silently, and Inkley followed in her wake.

"They organize most of the non-official turf wars from in here." Luma said off-handedly, opening the door to the tower and stepping inside.

Inkley stepped in after her. "Really?"

Luma stopped suddenly, looking at Inkley over her shoulder. She gave a genuine smile and laughed. "Yeah. _Really_."

Inkley found Luma's smile infectious, and he couldn't help but grin as he followed her towards a desk at which a rather bored-looking clerk sat, chin resting on his fist as he stared at a computer. As they approached, the clerk barely looked at up them.

"Solo or duo queue?" the clerk asked, the words sounding as though they had come from a robot.

"Duo." Luma replied, putting a hand on her hip.

The clerk looked back at the computer, scrolling for a moment. "There's an opening at Walleye Warehouse in fifteen."

"We'll take it."

"Your teammates are over there." the clerk stabbed a finger at a pair of eerily similar inklings, who matched almost perfectly, down to the gear they wore and their rollers. "Good luck."

Luma huffed and stalked away. "Those two are gonna suck, I just know it."

"What do you mean?" Inkley asked, sending her an unsure glance.

"Look at them. They're just here to fool around."

"Isn't the point to have fun..?"

Luma set herself down on a bench and looked at Inkley. "Yeah. But there's a difference between fooling around and having fun. Look at them and you'll see what I mean."

Though Inkley hated the idea of judging the two just by looking at them, he sat beside Luma and examined them as closely as he could. One was a boy and the other was a girl, but the difference wasn't immediate. They both wore blue visors, shirts, and even blue and neon green shoes. They were undoubtedly siblings, maybe twins, even. While waiting, they talked excitedly, motioning and laughing energetically. _They certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves_.

"See what I mean?" Luma's voice broke Inkley from his thoughts.

"I guess…"

Luma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look at the way they're dressed. They way they're acting. _Twinsies_. They might even be _tourists_ , for all we know."

Inkley frowned as he processed Luma's statement. In the end, all he could do was shrug noncommittally.

"Just don't put your hopes on them bein' great, is all I'm saying." Luma said eventually. "Stick with me, and you'll go far, kid."

"Sounds like a plan." Inkley mumbled dumbly, nodding. _You don't have to tell me twice…_

They waited patiently to be called.

"All fighters for Walleye Warehouse, please report to the desk."

Luma and Inkley stood, shouldering their bags and moving to the desk. The two blue twins followed them, and another cluster of four inklings, all of whom looked like they didn't know each other, were already there. The clerk looked at the gathered group and sighed.

"You all know the rules?"

A few mumbled responses and a general nod satisfied the clerk.

"Alright. Everyone, give me your left arms."

The clerk started with the opposing team, fitting red wristbands onto their arms. Inkley's team was next, with each member being fitted with a yellow wristband. Inkley was last, and the clerk stood up afterwards.

"Okay. Come behind the desk." said the clerk, taking a keyring with only a few keys on it from his waist. "So, you've all been here before, right?" When no one answered, the clerk took it as a yes. "Good. So, the dark blue tunnel will take you to Walleye Warehouse. The staff at the warehouse are waiting for you, so get moving."

With his piece said, the clerk stepped away from the desk. Inkley's team, behind closer, shuffled behind the desk until there was no more room. Peering over Luma's shoulder, Inkley could see a hefty-looking hatch. The clerk crouched beside it, sticking a key into the lock and giving it a sharp twist. Inkley could hear the _kerchunk_ of the heavy lock shifting. The clerk stood, and with a grunt of effort, heaved the hatch open. He gestured down, and looked at the gathered inklings expectantly.

"There you go. Dark blue tunnel. Have fun."

The blue twins were closest, and they descended first. Luma followed them, and Inkley after her. Inkley climbed down the ladder, and stepped away, marvelling at the tunnel he found himself in. Several different pathways branched off, some small, some large, all of them painted a variety of colors and patterns. This clearly wasn't like the sewers in which he spent the occasional Monday night. This was an actual tunnel-system, meant to move bodies from one location to another as quickly and with as little fuss as possible. The dark blue tunnel was one of the smaller ones, leading off into the distance with just enough room for two inklings to walk shoulder-to-shoulder somewhat comfortably. It was just tall enough for all but the largest of fully-grown inklings to stand without hitting their heads.

At length, all eight of the participating inklings stood in the tunnels. The clerk loomed over them at the edge of the hatch.

"Follow the dark blue tunnel until you find a ladder going up. Don't branch off, or you'll get lost." The hatch closed with a resounding _boom_ , and Inkley heard it lock once more. The finality of the locked hatch made Inkley shiver.

"C'mon." Luma said, waving for Inkley to follow her.

"Is this… Normal?" Inkley asked, motioning to the walls around them.

"What? The tunnels? Yeah. It's either this or take a half an hour train ride." Luma replied with a shrug. "These are actually kinda new-ish. Like, ten or so years old. Before they built these, you'd actually have to walk or take a train to get to where you needed to go. It was a real hassle. Or so I've heard."

"Huh." was all Inkley could manage.

"Hey, you two." Luma hissed to the twins who were walking ahead of her. "C'mere. We gotta talk." The twins slowed their pace, walking just a few steps ahead of Luma and Inkley. "Right. Since you two have rollers, we're gonna have to cover you. Cover as much turf as you can, and we'll try to keep the chick with the charger from pinning you down."

The twins both gave a nod. "Got it." they said in unison.

"It looks like the other team is just a bunch of random kids, so we've got that on them. They're more balanced than we are, though." Luma said, looking at the other team over her shoulder. "That charger is probably gonna be a pain to deal with."

Inkley turned to look at the inklings behind him. They certainly looked like a bunch of strangers, walking in single file, their hands either stuffed in pockets or fiddling with gear. The leader of the line, an orange-tentacled boy wearing a red hoodie and black sneakers. One hand was crammed into the pocket of his hoodie, while the other held onto the roller slung over his shoulder. Seeing Inkley looking at him, he pulled his hand from his pocket and gave him a half-hearted wave. Inkley returned the wave and looked forward again.

They walked in silence for nearly ten minutes on end. The ink on their path glistened beneath the overhead lights. The path branched off at two different points, with one path being painted green and blue, and the other yellow and blue. Inkley could tell that nearly everyone had considered exploring the branching pathways, judging by their antsy glances. But they all carried on down the proper tunnel, and at length, they reached a ladder with a beam of light shining down on it. Their pace picked up as they saw the ladder, and not a few minutes later, all eight participants were up up the ladder.

Two inklings around eighteen or nineteen were waiting for the group.

"Wristbands, squiddies." One of them said boredly.

When all wrists were presented, the other staff-member stepped forward. "You guys are lucky, you know. First match of the day here. Okay. Leave anything that isn't pre-approved for turf wars here. You'll get it back when you're done." Moving to a set of lockers, he opened them up. "Come get your spawn-vests and get to your bases. Yellow, you're at the far side."

All non-essential items were set aside, spawn-vests were donned, and the teams split to go to their bases. Inkley made sure to examine the area as he went, mindful of the fact that he knew only what he had been told in his last turf war. Determined not to suffer another defeat like his first, Inkley squared his shoulders and attempted to map the place out in his mind. Though his success was questionable, Inkley felt reassured that he had at least _tried_.

Just as they reached their base-pad, loudspeakers crackled into life. "Both teams are at base. Change your colors and fill up."

Ink-nozzles appeared around the pad. Inkley felt a slap on his arm and turned as Luma jerked a thumb towards her tank.

"Gimme a hand." She said. Inkley chewed the inside of his cheek as he retrieved a nozzle and plugged it into the port on Luma's tank. As soon as it was filled, Luma turned around, taking the nozzle from Inkley's hand, gripping his shoulder, and wheeling him around. "Hold still."

Inkley did as he was told, idly checking the hose that led to his Junior as he waited. "Thanks." He said, shrugging his shoulders as he felt his tank fill. "So, you think we're gonna win?"

"Duh." Luma answered, as though she had seen the future. "Two duo-queues against a bunch of random kids? We have a _huge_ advantage. We'd have to screw up big time to lose."

"That's a winning spirit if I ever saw one!" the male twin said brightly.

Luma glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Yeah."

The twin seemed utterly oblivious to the way Luma had brushed him off, which Inkley was thankful for. Looking at his teammates, he realized their tentacles were all yellow now. With a thought, he shifted the color of his own tentacles, and satisfied with that, he turned to face the same direction as Luma. She stared off towards the other base.

"You want to take middle or sides?" Luma asked suddenly.

"Uh… Sides?"

"Cool. I'll go up the middle. Shout if you see the charger, so we can get into cover."

" _Teams, get ready to splat, in five, four, three, two, one… Splat!_ " An airhorn sounded.

Inkley took of at a light jog, moving down the ramp and veering to the left. His pace slowed as both of the twins came running past him, and Luma after them. Inkley was going to continue on his way, when he realized that all of his teammates were making a mad dash for the middle. Frowning, Inkley came to a stop, and looked around. Only a few streaks, fitting the mark of rollers, colored the concrete floor. Inkley turned and sprayed, painting the majority of the base yellow.

Satisfied, Inkley turned and looked out across the warehouse. The opposing team seemed to be sticking to their base, establishing a solid patch of red for them to expand from. Inkley stopped to refill his ink before moving to the left as he had originally intended. Stopping on the edge of a platform raised above the center, Inkley watched as ink flew in both directions in the center. His hand reached behind his back, and he retrieved a splat bomb. Tossing it as far as he could, Inkley felt a certain satisfaction when he saw the large splotch of yellow from the bomb. That done, Inkley continued to the left, trying to move as quietly as he could on the grated walkway.

He went, painting whatever space he could as he moved. Coming to the very end of the walkway, Inkley dropped down, coming to crouch as he landed. He let out a shout of surprise as a red-tentacled inkling with a shooter appeared before him. The opposing inkling seemed just as surprised as Inkley, pausing to gawk at Inkley before raising his shooter. Inkley let out another shout as his Junior bucked in his grip, sending a wave of ink flying. At some point, the other inkling exploded into a puddle yellow, but Inkley continued to spray, both shocked at how he had just splatted someone, and aware that there was still very little yellow ink around.

Inkley refilled his tank and moved to join his teammates in the center. One of the twins ran past, carving a yellow streak towards the opposing base. Inkley stepped out to follow her, but reeled back when she exploded in a shower of red. The enemy charger appeared on one of the elevated platforms, and sighted at Inkley.

"Charger!" Inkley managed to shout before a glob of red silenced him.

He would have huffed while he floated upwards, waiting to spawn. Inkley saw the girl wielding the charger explode, and felt satisfied when Luma climbed up the platform and began painting the enemy base. A few seconds later, Inkley spawned, feeling a little queasy. Waiting for the vertigo to pass, Inkley stumbled back to the center and rejoined the fray.

At some point, in the thick of it, Inkley heard his tank _ding_. He paid no heed to it, until the enemy roller rounded the corner, malicious intent written on its wielder's face. Inkley, in a panic, reached back and pressed his special button. A yellow bubble shimmered into existence around Inkley, and the boy with the roller skidded to a halt before him. Inkley splatted him, and made a mad dash towards the enemy base, Jet's words about the length of his special suddenly ringing in his head.

"Shield me!" Luma shouted, suddenly appearing beside Inkley. He reached out and tapped his shooter to hers, and they pressed on.

A veritable tidal wave of ink met them as they approached the enemy base. Inkley, nervous despite the shield around him, reached for a bomb and hurled it at the nearest enemy, watching as they burst into a splash of yellow. And then his shield faded from existence, and panic rose in him as the enemy roller charged at him and his Junior clicked dry.

The airhorn sounded just as Inkley was about to be splatted. Instead, the roller swept his feet out from under him.

"Oh, crap!" said the boy wielding the roller. He extended a hand to Inkley. "Sorrysorrysorry!"

Inkley accepted the offered hand and stood shakily. "It's alright. I'm fine."

Judd appeared, announcing his presence with a meow. Barely sparing a glance at the ink-stained competitors, he withdrew a red and a yellow flag, holding them both in the air. And then he lowered the red one.

Inkley grinned uncontrollably, and couldn't help but let out a victorious whoop when he heard Luma cheer.

"Nice work with that bubble." Luma said, giving Inkley a slap on the shoulder.

" _Attention competitors! The turf war is over. Retrieve your personal belongings_."

They returned to the staging area, removed spawn-vests, and picked up bags. The same two staff-members were there waiting for them. One pointed down a corridor.

"There's an exit over there, if you don't want to go back to the tower. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

The twins made for the exit that had been pointed out, while everyone else was content to return to the tower.

"Victory tastes great, huh? You feeling up for another fight?" Luma asked.

His confidence bolstered by victory, Inkley grinned. "You bet."


	9. Seize the Day

Inkley looked around as laughter echoed off the walls. It sounded like it was coming from every direction at once, and it made Inkley's stomach twist. He knew it was just another group of kids - maybe even the one they had passed a minute ago - but the way it sounded echoing through the tunnels unnerved Inkley.

"These tunnels are kind of creepy." Inkley said quietly.

"Huh?" Luma looked over her shoulder and shrugged, "I guess. You'll get used to it. You've got time for another fight, right? Of course you do."

"Yeah, sure." Inkley replied. Luma laughed, and Inkley cocked an eyebrow at her. "What's funny?"

"It's almost like you thought you had a choice." She said, just barely keeping herself from snorting.

As strange as her response was, Inkley couldn't help but crack a grin and laugh with her. Everything about her was so _infectious_.

"Could you two get your asses moving?" came the gruff request from behind Inkley.

Inkley felt heat rise in his cheeks as he realized he and Luma had come to a near-halt as they were speaking. Inkley opened his mouth to apologize, but was cut off as Luma rounded on the aggressor with a scowl that intimidated even Inkley.

"Can you mind your own business, you ink-sucking shell-biter?" Luma snapped, stabbing her finger angrily at the offender. "Or maybe I should come back there and make you eat your hat."

The sheer ferocity off Luma's retort left the entire tunnel silent. The offending boy and his friend behind him looked entirely dumbfounded, while the gas-mask wearing girl behind them giggled madly.

For a moment, Inkley was certain Luma was going to make good on her promise, as she looked fuming and ready to storm past him and stomp somebody into the ground. Suddenly afraid of such a confrontation, Inkley tried to place himself between Luma and the target of her anger, though he was certain she was going to shove him aside. She bared her teeth for the briefest moment, before the anger drained from her face, replaced by a determined frown. Her shoulders remained squared, and her entire body remained tense.

"Come on," Inkley said quietly. "We've got better stuff to do, right?"

"Right." Luma said begrudgingly, huffing and spinning around, marching off in the opposite direction.

Inkley jogged after her, considering her sudden change of mood. When they had first met up, she had been all business, and after their first win, she had loosened up. Each consecutive victory had made her considerably more relaxed, up until their last game. It had been close, but they had lost by just a tank's worth of ink. Luma had seemed nothing more than slightly irritated at the loss. _And then this happened…_

The tunnel was silent, save for the occasional echoes of passing groups. The boy and his friend walked several paces behind Inkley and Luma now, giving them a wide berth. At length, they reached the one-way door that led back into the tower. Luma, leading the group, trotted lightly up a short set of stairs and pushed the door open, stepping out. She stopped for a moment to adjust the strap of her gear-bag. Inkley followed her through the door, which had no outer handle, and stopped beside her.

"Look, I'm a little frazzled right now. Not in the right mindset to fight nice and proper. That other war'll have to wait." Luma said, avoiding Inkley's gaze.

"That's, uh, alright. I could use a break, too." Inkley rubbed at the back of his neck as he considered something. "Do you want a drink or something?"

The tension seemed to flow out of Luma's body at the offer. "If you're buying, sure. I could go for some ice cream right about now."

"C-cool, I know just the place." Inkley replied. There was brief moment of awkwardness as they both hesitated, but Inkley managed to take the initiative and began leading Luma to one of the few places he was familiar with.

The trip to Fishy Frank's was uneventful, if a bit awkward as Luma separated herself from Inkley to brood. He couldn't help but wonder if the loss and Luma's resulting mood were his fault. Inkley knew that such thoughts were pointless, but they nagged at him nonetheless. Huffing, Inkley shifted in his seat, turning to stare out the window, wearing a thoughtful frown he didn't know about.

"Hey, kid." Luma said suddenly, breaking Inkley out of his thoughts. He turned to look at her, and realized that she had scooted closer to him. "What's got your boxers in a twist? You look moody."

Inkley's shoulders slumped as he pondered a response. At a length, he said "So did you."

Luma frowned suddenly, cocking an eyebrow at Inkley. "I did?" She laughed with a shake of her head. "Oh, boy. Sorry, kid. I'm not used to losing, so when I do, I get all broody and try to figure out why. Didn't mean to cause a problem."

"... Was it me?"

Luma stared hard at Inkley for a moment, before blinking her shock away. "What? No. Don't be stupid, stupid." She said, waving the thought off. "You're too green to be held responsible." She paused. "It was around mid-game, I think. We pushed when we should have defended. Overextended, lost our crap."

Inkley scrunched his face up as he tried to remember. He recalled a charge, in which the entire team had been splatted. After that point, they had been on the defensive.

"Oh. Yeah." Inkley said plainly.

Luma suddenly slugged Inkley on the arm, hard enough to make him yelp from both shock and pain. "Cut the negative-Nelly crap, dumbass. We don't play that way, got it?" Though Luma wore an easy smile, Inkley was certain she meant what she said, and he gave a nod as he rubbed his arm. Luma's smile only grew at his acquiescence. "Good. Victory is a mindset. If all you do is go _woe is me_ or some crap, you've already lost. Seize the day!"

Luma's burst of positivity forced Inkley to smile, despite the ache in his arm. The pain was well worth seeing Luma beam the way she was.

* * *

Inkley pushed the door to Fishy Frank's open, and Luma followed him in. A handful of diners ate and talked quietly amongst themselves as the young duo approached the counter, filling a pair of seats and patiently awaiting the arrival of Fishy Frank himself.

They didn't wait long, as Frank floated forth from the back. "Hey, Inkley. Who's your lady-friend?" He asked, leaving a heavy implication in the air.

Either not noticing or not caring about the implication, Luma drummed her fingers against the countertop. "I'm Luma."

"Right, Luma." Frank glanced between the young duo. "Looks like you two have been busy."

"Wha..?" Inkley mumbled dumbly. Frank gestured to his face, and Inkley reached a finger up to his own cheek. He felt something wet, and hurriedly wiped away a splotch of ink from the last turf war. "Oops. Yeah."

"So, what can I do for you kids?"

"Can I get a chocolate milkshake, Frank?" Inkley said. He glanced expectantly at Luma. "And, uh…"

"A sundae." Luma added quickly.

"Coming right up," Frank replied, withdrawing a small notepad and jotting something down on it. "Moira!"

"Yeah?" Asked a young woman, poking her head out from the kitchen doorway. Her tentacles were red, and Inkley recognized her bright green eyes. Frank tore a slip from his pad, and handed it off to the Moira. "Coming right up, boss-man!" And she disappeared back into the kitchen once more.

Frank leaned onto the counter, arching an eyebrow at Inkley. "So, turf wars, huh? They went better than your first one, I hope."

"Oh, yeah." Inkley said with a nod. "A lot better."

"I'm making sure of that." Interjected Luma, resting her cheek on her fist.

"Well, sixteen tentacles are better than eight. It's good that you kids are taking care of each other." Frank shrugged. "Next time you stop in, maybe you can tell me a story or two, eh?"

"Sure thing, Frank."

"Here you guys go," Moira called from the kitchen. She stepped out a moment later, carrying a plastic tray with their sweet treats atop it. "Eat up, kiddos." Moira set their order down and shuffled away, moving to greet a small family that entered the diner.

"I'll leave you both to it," Frank said, floating towards the kitchen. "Holler if you need anything."

As Frank disappeared, Inkley tentatively drank his shake. From the corner of his eye, he could see Luma take a massive bite from her sundae. They sat like this for a short while, before Luma idly tapped her spoon against the countertop.

"So," Luma slurred, her mouth half-full. "Splatfest is comin' up soon and all." She stopped to swallow, before slapping her open palm on the counter. "You doin' anything special?"

"Well, I was probably gonna watch it all from home." Inkley replied.

Luma barely managed to keep herself from barking with laughter. "Oh, man. That was good." Wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye, she shook her head and looked right at Inkley. Her grin faded as she saw his expression. "W-wait, are… Are you serious?"

"Kinda."

"Wow. That's dumb. No. You're not doing that, it's dumb." Luma said, shaking her head again. "Blue was saying something about getting everyone together the night before it all kicks off. You'll start with that. Then you can figure out something that isn't dumb to do. Play in the freebie games or something."

Inkley frowned thoughtfully. "Oh. Alright."

"Of course, we're gonna have to get you ready to roll on your own in time for Splatfest. I'm not gonna be there to watch your back then; the Tangerines are making a grab for the championship this year." Luma added, grinning in an undeniably cocky way.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Buck thinks we have a solid chance at making it. The running champs have thrown in the towel to _let the new kids have a go at it_ , or something like that." Luma shrugged. "With them out of the picture, all the past runner-ups and a bunch of semi-pro teams - like the Tangerines - are gonna be rushing for the title. Normally we don't care about Splatfest, but Buck's been pushing for it all year."

"And… You listen to him?" Inkley inquired.

"Yeah. Him and Blue may be jerks, but they know turf war. I think we could do it, too." Luma said, almost dreamily, a certain glint in her eye. "That'd be sweet. _Champions_." She exhaled, looking wistfully off into the distance.

Inkley watched Luma, mouth slightly agape, wondering what exactly she was thinking about. Suddenly, Luma straightened her back and shook her head.

"Sorry. Got lost for a second." Luma said with a sigh. "Uh, I'm gonna go now. Talk you later kid, alright?" Without waiting for a response, Luma hopped down from her stool, shouldered her bag, and made for the door.

"Y-yeah, talk to you later," Inkley said, watching her go.

Luma stopped in the open door, and glanced over her shoulder at Inkley. Giving a mock-salute, she disappeared out the door, leaving Inkley with his milkshake and a half-finished sundae. Resting his cheek on his fist, Inkley sighed, staring down into his milkshake as though it had answers for all the questions he had.

A tentacle slid into Inkley's view. "A penny for your thoughts, kiddo."

"Huh?" Inkley mumbled, looking up at Frank. "Oh. Hey, Frank."

"Something on your mind?" Frank asked, leaning on the counter.

Inkley exhaled, and took a long moment before answering. "Yeah, I guess. A lot of things."

"Wanna chat?"

"I… I dunno, Frank. It's all pretty weird."

Frank shrugged. "I understand. You're always welcome here, though, Inkley."

"Thanks." Inkley said earnestly. He fished out a small handful of coins and deposited them on the counter "Talk to you later, Frank."

"See you around, Inkley."

Hopping down from his seat, Inkley picked up his things, shouldered his bag, and made his way home.

* * *

Inkley didn't hear from Luma for the rest of the week. He spent most of Thursday wondering if she would ever speak to him again, but by Friday morning, he was instead wondering _when_ he would hear from her.

He had no time to worry, however, when Jet called and informed him that she would be picking him up tomorrow morning. Inkley packed a few changes of clothes and eagerly awaited his sister's arrival.

She arrived late in the morning, and she and Inkley went through the suburbs, opting to walk instead of taking the train.

"I heard that you and that Luma girl were hanging out a few days ago." Jet said eventually, hands in her pockets.

"Who told you that?" Inkley asked, trying his hardest to match Jet's cool demeanor.

"A reliable source." Jet replied with a shrug. She cast a glance at Inkley and cocked an expectant eyebrow at him. "Were you?"

Inkley exhaled. "Yeah. We did a few turf wars, and stopped at Frank's afterwards."

"Kinda like a date."

"I-I gue- Wait, no!" Inkley stammered indignantly. "It wasn't a date."

"Mhmm." Jet hummed, smirking. "You know, Zoom and I first started dating around your age. And it all started over a turf war and a milkshake at Frank's, too."

"Shut up! We're not dating!"

Jet laughed at Inkley's outburst and shook her head. "Chill out, Squirt. Maybe if you cool down, we can head to the plaza, try a turf war or two."

Inkley continued to scowl for several moments, before huffing. "Fine."

Jet smiled at Inkley and gave him a nod. "Better. C'mon - we're going back to my place first. You can drop your stuff off, I can pick up my gear, and then we can splat the world."

Inkley huffed and crammed his hands into his pockets, falling a step behind Jet, content to let her lead the way. They walked for another half hour, not talking, save for the occasional, obligatory quip, often aimed at strangers they passed on the street. Eventually making it back to Jet's apartment complex, they made their way up to her apartment and entered. Jet strode to her room, stopping only to address Inkley for a moment.

"Dump anything that isn't turf-related, squiddo." Jet told him, before disappearing through the doorway.

Frowning, Inkley did just that, dumping out all his belongings, except for his shooter and its tank. Everything he had brought with him lay in a heap on Jet's couch. Satisfied, Inkley zipped his bag back up and shouldered it. Not a moment later, Jet emerged from her room, her rifle back in her arms. She didn't stop for a moment, barely even glancing at Inkley as she gestured towards the door.

"C'mon, let's go." Jet said. "The sooner we get there, the sooner I can show you how the _big squids_ do turf wars."

"Besides getting stomped into the turf by people who are way better than them?" Inkley retorted.

"Shut up and come on, or you're getting a timeout."

Inkley grinned and trotted after her, closing the door behind him.

* * *

The plaza was, as usual, packed with bodies. Inkley followed Jet through the press of the crowd towards the Tower lobby. The doors slid open, and they made their way to the desk, which had a long line in front of it. The place was as busy as Inkley had ever seen it, and they had to wait nearly five minutes before they were at the front of the line.

"How can I help you?" Asked the clerk, resting her cheek on her fist.

"We want to sign up for duo queue." Jet said firmly.

The clerk perked up slightly, sending an unsure glance between Jet and Inkley. "You sure about that?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. "Since you're different ages, I'm gonna have to put you in the upper-middle age group. And, uh, he looks kinda… _Young_."

Jet sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I know he looks goofy and all… _Just_ … Do what you gotta do. We can take it."

"I'm right here, you know." Inkley said, frowning. Neither Jet nor the clerk seemed to pay him any heed, and his frown only deepened. " _Squids_ …"

The clerk shrugged and busily tapped away at her computer. "I've got some openings for Port Mackerel in fifteen."

"Sign us up." Jet said, grinning. She nudged Inkley. "Port Mackerel is, like, my _place_ , Squirt. Long, narrow paths are really good for pinning people down. And if you watch my back and make good use of your bubbler, we shouldn't have any problems."

"Right." Inkley replied, nodding thoughtfully.

"Okay," the clerk said absently. "You guys are in. You'll be called when the match is ready."

Jet manhandled Inkley away from the counter, leading him to the nearest unoccupied spot on the wall. Jet seated herself on the floor, and seeing that all nearby benches were occupied, Inkley followed her lead.

"Okay, so, since we're going against an older age-group, things may be a bit... Rough." Jet began, drumming her fingers against her thigh. "Older boys and girls like to play a bit more… _Aggressively_ , I guess."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Inkley asked, cocking an eyebrow at his sister.

"Just… Don't be afraid to push and shove if you have to, is all I'm saying." Jet replied, looking away.

"Jet, I _really_ don't like the way-"

"Look," Jet said, cutting Inkley off. "Random people in older age groups tend to be…" Jet sighed. "They're assholes, Inkley. They'll knock you over from behind and laugh at you before they splat you, and then they'll sneer when you respawn." Seeing the look on Inkley's face, Jet shook her head. "Not _everyone's_ like that, but… There are more jerks in the older age ranges than in the younger ones." She laughed wistfully, looking off for a moment. "You little squids are so innocent, and all. Turf war is life, and all, when you're young." Shaking her head again, Jet looked back at Inkley. "If someone's a jerk, don't take it personally. Their life just sucks, is all, and the only thing they can do about it is be awful. Stick around me and they probably won't try anything."

Inkley felt a pit forming in his stomach, but tried his hardest not to let it show. "Oh."

Jet frowned at Inkley. "I shouldn't have said anything. I've only dealt with a few jerks in my time here."

"You're a bad liar." Inkley replied, putting his face in his hands.

Jet gave a weak laugh and shrugged. "Yeah… We don't have to do this, if you don't want to."

Inkley remained as he was for a long moment, before pressing his back to the wall and exhaling. "No. I-it's okay. I can… I can handle it."

Jet smiled at him. "You're a bad liar."

Despite himself, Inkley laughed. "I learned from the worst."

"Friggin' right you did."

And then they fell into an easy silence as they waited. Inkley watched nearly a dozen other kids come and go, nearly all of them laughing and cheering raucously as they went. Another group passed, this one far more somber than the others. They all stared at the floor dejectedly as they walked. One of them put on a winning smile and swept her teammates together, straining to wrap her arms around all of their shoulders.

"Come on guys!" She said brightly. "So, we lost by, like, seventy percent. We can do better next time." Her teammates gave grumbled, half-hearted responses. "Listen here, you salty squids. I won't tolerate this anymore." She snapped, putting her fists on her hips. One of her tentacles waved in the air beside her for emphasis. "The next one of you to complain gets slapped."

"But-"

"Shush." Continued the girl, cutting her friend off. Her tentacle reached out and flicked the offender's nose. "Be happy!"

The group's somber mood was broken as the boy who had been flicked burst into laughter. The four of them walked off, suddenly full of spirit. Inkley idly wondered if, at the end of a bad day, he would be able to recover as easily as they had.

"All fighters for Port Mackerel, please report to the desk."

Jet slapped Inkley's shoulder as she stood, and offered a hand to pull him up. Taking it, Inkley stood and followed her over to the desk, where another six people, plus the clerk, had already gathered. With just a cursory glance, Inkley confirmed that he was the youngest. Two others looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, while the rest looked eighteen or older. Inkley's confidence was already beginning to fade.

"Wrists." Demanded the clerk, a no-nonsense look on her face. When all arms were stuck out, the clerk set to banding each wrist. Inkley found himself on the blue team, while the enemy team was pink. One of the other younger inklings was on his team, which did little to reassure him. "Alright, behind the desk." The clerk said, standing and moving away from the desk. She unlocked the hatch, and with a grunt of effort, opened it, clearly straining to do so. She huffed, and stepped away from the hatch. "Alright… First, follow the bright green tunnel, then the purple one. The purple one will take you all the way to Port Mackerel."

The opposing team was closer, and so they climbed down first. Inkley's team followed, with Jet being the last one. The clerk said nothing, simply closing the hatch after them. It was even louder than last time, and Inkley jumped at the sound. Inkley nearly started again as he felt a tap on his shoulder, and he wheeled around to Jet.

"C'mon, Squirt." Jet said, waving him along.

Looking past his sister, Inkley could see that everyone else was already moving forward. Not wanting to get left behind, he quickly followed after Jet. The walk to Port Mackerel was utterly uneventful, and they made it there without so much as a word being said. They climbed up an open hatch, and were immediately greeted by a pair of workers.

"Alright," One of them said, jerking a thumb towards a row of lockers. "Stow your stuff and get your vests. Blue, you're on the far side."

Inkley, following the lead of those around him, pulled his shooter out from his bag and moved to a locker. Opening it, he stored his bag and took out the vest hanging within. Pulling it on, Inkley strapped on his tank, hooked up his shooter, and stood beside Jet, waiting for her to get ready. He changed his tentacles to the proper color as he waited. The others, all prepared, shuffled through a narrow door in a nearby wall.

"Let's get going." Jet said suddenly, straightening. "The sooner we start, the sooner we win."

Inkley followed Jet, going through the door and peering around. _This place is just like an outdoors Walleye Warehouse._ Shipping crates littered the area. A ramp led down to the central area, while two higher branching paths flanked it.

"Like I said, this place is great." Jet explained, hefting her charger for emphasis. "The long, narrow paths let me get a clear shot from far away. The grid pattern lets close fighters like you move around and flank people. But I want you defending. Me, specifically. Keep my flanks covered and nearby turf painted our color, and we should be in business while our teammates push."

"Got it." Inkley replied, nodding as if it would help him process the information.

"And, uh…" Jet began with a laugh. "The enemy team is _really_ wonky. Three rollers and a slosher. We've got this. Just check your corners and try to flank the slosher."

"Right."

"You got no idea what I'm saying, do you?" Jet asked, shaking her head.

"Not really."

"Just stick near me. But not so close we both get splatted. Play defensively and play safe."

Inkley nodded, not saying anything. They reached their base, where their teammates were waiting for them. One, a young man who looked older than Jet, had a massive roller over his shoulder and held it with practiced ease, while the other, a girl just a few years older than Inkley, had what Inkley recognized as an Aerospray RG. She was also wearing a gas mask and what looked like some kind of tactical vest, and Inkley found himself strangely intimidated by her.

"What is that?" Inkley asked dumbly, staring slack-jawed at his teammate's roller.

"Dynamo." The young man replied, shrugging his shoulders. "This thing throws ink farther than you can see, kid."

The girl said something, muffled by her mask, and laughed. The young man laughed with her, and Inkley realized how close they were standing. _Must be friends._

"Both teams are at base." Came the voice of a worker. "Fill your tanks, and get ready to splat."

Jet reached down to pick up a hose from the base-pad, and promptly handed it to Inkley.

"Fill up, Squirt." Jet said quietly. Frowning, Inkley did as he was told, hooking the hose up to Jet's tank and holding it until it was full. As the hose detached, Jet wheeled around, taking it and spinning Inkley. "Alright, hold still."

Inkley shrugged experimentally as fluid weight bore down on his shoulders. His teammates had just finished filling their tanks, and after a moment, Inkley's gave a satisfied _ding_. A few moments later, all the hoses detracted, and the speakers crackled back to life.

"Both teams have full tanks. Prepare to splat in… _5, 4, 3, 2, 1… SPLAT!_ "

Inkley inhaled, puffing out his chest and gripping his shooter so tightly that his knuckles were white and his hand hurt. Trying to be as brave as he could, he stepped forward and raised his shooter, intent on carving a path forward.


	10. Splatting With the Big Squids

Inkley watched as the older boy with the roller sprinted down the right-middle path, and the masked girl down the left-middle. Jet moved towards the far right path, stopping only to ink a path and shout.

"Go left, start inking!" She called, and disappeared into her own ink.

Inkley inhaled and turned to the left, before realizing that most of their base was left unpainted. He pivoted on a heel and walked backwards, coloring their base as thoroughly as he could. He stopped only when his back bumped into the wall, and laughed at himself before turning back to the path before him and moving down it. Inkley made sure to go out on the edges, and as he did so, he saw an alarming amount of pink. Frowning, he dropped into his ink and filled his tank, surfacing only long enough to retrieve a bomb from his tank and lob it into the area below. He didn't wait for it to explode, swimming back and coloring the rest of his raised area. Standing at the furthest ledge, Inkley watched as a pink blob flew through the air, popping as it landed and leaving a splotch of pink amidst the blue. Jet appeared across from Inkley, charger raised to her shoulder. A thin beam of light stabbed out towards where the burst-bomb had come from, and a concentrated line of blue ink followed it a moment later. Jet pumped her fist in the air as she dropped down, and assuming she had splatted the culprit, Inkley dropped down too, sending a short burst of blue towards the path nearest him.

He was contemplating moving further towards the enemy base when a girl wielding a roller, clad in military apparel leapt out from the pink, swinging her roller over her head. Giving a startled cry, Inkley threw himself to the side, changing into a squid and swimming several feet away. Peeking out from the shelter of his team's ink, he saw the girl lift her roller and repeat the motion several times, apparently certain that she would splat Inkley in the process. On the final swing, barely a drop of ink flew from her roller, and she dropped into her own ink.

With the words _seize the day_ stuck strangely in Inkley's head, he emerged from his own ink and tossed a bomb at where he _thought_ his foe was. It exploded in a rain of blue, but Inkley was surprised when he saw no trace of the girl. He hopped away, startled, when a thin line of blue trailed past him, carving through the pink and revealing a squid, suddenly squirming in ink that wasn't it's own. The girl shouted as she changed back into a humanoid, and Inkley hurriedly brought his shooter to bear, hosing his opponent with blue. She burst into blue, and the faint outline of a flinching squid floated away.

"Be careful!" Jet called, aiming down the path nearest her.

Inkley exhaled and nodded even though Jet couldn't see him. He cleaned up the mess his foe had made, filled his tank halfway, and turned towards his own path, spraying it with ink just for the sake of creating an obstacle between him and any possible enemies.

Inkley maintained that position for several long moments, content to simply hinder any advances, at a length, he became aware of the fact that his vest was _vibrating_. He heard a sharp whistle, and then someone screaming. Inkley dropped into his ink and swam several feet back from the path, suddenly afraid that someone had somehow gotten behind him. His fear was proved wrong as his team's roller slammed down where he was standing.

"Thanks for the jump, kid." Said his teammate, before swinging his roller overhead and driving forward. Inkley was amazed at how much ink his roller threw, and realized that his teammate was only _barely_ exaggerating.

"Right!" Jet shouted suddenly, firing her charger and laughing. "I totally forgot to explain Super Jumping!" Inkley paused as he realized that only one person had jumped to him before. "Okay, so, after you get splatted, or if you just want to go say hi, you can Super Jump to an active team member. There are three buttons on your chest; one for each of your teammates. You kinda have to figure out which is which on your own. If you press the button and it pushes back right away, your teammates is respawning."

Inkley made a surprised noise and tossed a bomb as a boy with a slosher appeared at the end of the pathway. It exploded, but the enemy was unscathed, and with just a few shakes of his weapon, he carved a path towards Inkley. Another shake splattered Inkley with enough pink to knock him back, and the final one burst Inkley apart. Sighing inwardly, there was little he could do but watch as Jet avenged him before he respawned.

As he materialized, Inkley's hand inquisitively prodded the buttons on the left side of his chest. He had never quite noticed them before, and he hesitantly pressed the third one. It gave, clicked, and stuck. His vest began vibrating, and he felt compelled to shift into a squid. Once he changed form, he felt pressure well up within a muscle he didn't know he had, and it released explosively, rocketing Inkley skyward. He felt simultaneously exhilarated and terrified as he soared through the air, and he saw that he was approaching the ground, where Jet waited, idly sending thin streams of blue forward. He hit the ground surprisingly softly, and stood, marvelling at the fact that he wasn't hurt in the slightest.

Jet laughed as Inkley appeared beside her. "I guess I don't need to explain it anymore." She slapped Inkley's arm and pointed forward. "Let's move up. You first."

Inkley frowned at Jet but said nothing, instead stepping forward hesitantly. He kept his shooter aimed forward, and as he came to a corner, he stopped to peer around it. Seeing nothing but blue, he went to the next shipping container, pressed his shoulder against it, and slid to the next corner. As he peered around it, a stream of blue shot over his shoulder, splatting someone who had stepped into view at the end of the path. Jet stepped close, put a hand on Inkley's shoulder, and man-handled him forward.

"We're in control," She said. "Be aggressive. Exploit the opening."

Inkley sighed as Jet pushed him into the open, but set himself to turning the clearing blue, sending a cautious glance around to make sure he wasn't in danger of being blindsided. A decent chunk had already been painted, Inkley realized, and the gas-masked girl popped out from a pool of blue, shooting her teammates a thumbs up before moving towards the enemy base. A moment later, their roller splashed down in the ink left in her wake. He surfaced, grunting as he slapped his roller down onto the ground and taking the other path, charging headlong towards the enemy base.

"Alright, never mind." Jet said with a laugh. "They're being aggressive, so we be defensive. Mark your turf and then we hold this position to the last squid."

Nodding, Inkley slid a splat bomb along the ground, watching as it burst. He dropped into his ink and swam to the mouth of the pathway nearest him. It was almost entirely blue, Inkley realized, and he squinted, straining to watch the form of his shooter-wielding teammates. He recoiled in shock as she burst apart in a shower of pink, and squared his shoulders, ready to face whoever came to challenge him.

"They're coming." Inkley called, glancing at Jet from the corner of his eye.

"I got it." Jet replied, shouldering her charger.

Inkley saw the slosher coming towards him, moving at a steady pace as his bucket sent ink flying. He briefly wondered if he was outmatched, but discarded the thought as pink stained his shoes. Giving a determined frown, Inkley rolled a bomb towards his foe and dropped into his ink,swimming back and looping around to break line of sight. His opponent let loose a string of curses that made Inkley blush, before he realized that he had hit him. _Exploit the opening_. Jet's words rang in Inkley's mind as he burst up, shouting and spraying ink to where he believed his enemy was.

But he wasn't there anymore, and all Inkley hit was concrete. Something smashed against Inkley's side and he nearly fell, windmilling his arms to keep his balance. Inkley thought he had been tackled until he saw the pink dripping from his entire right half. It made his skin crawl, and the sensation was suddenly gone as he exploded into pink. He internally exhaled as he waited to respawn.

Inkley took a deep breath as he rematerialized, and staggered a step forward. His hand went to his chest, and he pressed the button that had taken him to Jet earlier. It resisted his finger and pressed back right away, and Inkley sighed as he realized his error had gotten Jet splatted. His finger slid over to the next button, and he pressed it. It clicked, and Inkley dropped into squid form, and launched into the air, soaring through the sky and landing heavily beside his gas-masked teammate.

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, said something Inkley couldn't make out, and laughed, before promptly turning and running in the opposite direction, oblivious to the fact that Inkley wasn't following.

"Get a move on, kiddo." Urged the young man with the roller, stepping past Inkley and lobbing a sprinkler into the air. "There's a war on, y'know."

Inkley chewed the inside of his cheek and stepped over to the other path, deciding it would be better to spread out. He jogged to the end of the path, tossing a splat bomb out into the pink expanse of the clearing to announce his arrival and give him room to work. He swam quickly to the edge of the blue ink and began spraying, glancing warily to either side, distinctly aware of the lack of resistance. Inkley vaguely heard the sounds of splatting to his right, and he dearly hoped his teammates were coming out on top.

Pressing onwards, Inkley carved a path towards the enemy base, stopping only for a moment to slide a bomb towards a large pink splotch and refill his tank. He had barely taken a step down the path to the opposing base when something slapped painfully against the back of his neck. His entire body went cold, and he knew he was being splatted. He heard a very unsportsmanlike call come from behind and above him, just before he lost all sensations but frustration.

Inkley took a breath to calm his nerves as he ran to where the fighting was, certain that a little jog would steady him. _I was wrong,_ he realized as a burst bomb knocked him onto his rear. It's thrower was nowhere to be found, and instead, a girl sneered as she swung her roller over her head, bringing it down on top of Inkley's. Despite the fact that ink had splatted him before the roller actually his head, he felt a throbbing pain that reminded him that he wasn't an athlete, and most definitely wasn't used to stressing himself like this. As he rematerialized, Inkley let out a growl of frustration, and rubbed at his temple, willing his headache to go away.

It didn't, and Inkley had little choice but to carry on, opting to take one of the higher paths, hoping it would give him some kind of edge against the other team.

 _It didn't_. This realization frustrated Inkley just as much as the last as a trio of burst bombs turned him into a puddle of pink. He let out a shout as he respawned, but his frustration was lost as a pillar of blue exploded onto the field, undoubtedly the work of his masked teammate. Squinting as he ran, Inkley could see his entire team retaking their half of the field. He slid up beside Jet, turning a small splotch of pink blue as he did so.

"Where've you been?" Jet asked, clearly not wanting an answer.

"Dead." Inkley replied, deadpanning. They shared a brief laugh, but Inkley frowned. "This sucks!" He shouted over the sound of his shooter.

"I know, but we've got this!" Jet replied.

Their roller-wielding teammate stepped between them, lightly slapping Inkley's arm. "Here's the plan; we're rushing. Get your special ready ASAP and spread it like a disease. Then we push to win."

Inkley looked to Jet for guidance, but she said nothing, apparently satisfied to follow the plan. With no better idea, Inkley gave a nod and set off down the path, emptying his tank to fill the demands of his special. A roller lunged at him from a surprisingly small puddle of pink. Inkley narrowly avoided the downswing of the weapon, and quickly turned on its owner, reducing them to a puddle of blue.

He carried on, moving into the enemy team's clearing. There was a suspicious lack of enemies, and Inkley moved forward cautiously, painting a path towards the center of the area. He could see splashes of blue from the corner of his eye, and knew that the others were moving along as well. A few streams of blue shot from over Inkley's shoulder, and Jet gave him a gentle nudge, encouraging him to move forward. He did so, stepping fully into the clearing, and as soon as he did so, the enemy team sprung into action.

Directly across from Inkley, the slosher burst forth from their ink, hurling a burst bomb and flinging ink. Inkley had barely registered the threat as he dropped into his own ink and swam out of the line of fire, only knowing that he was startled and in danger. Only as he swam to safety did he realize that he had doomed Jet, and he scolded himself for his cowardice. Glancing about cautiously, Inkley realized two of his opponents had moved towards his base, and one, the slosher, busied themselves with cleaning up the blue. The roller Inkley had splatted landed lightly beside the slosher.

"Wait," Said the boy with the slosher, looking as though he had just had a revelation. "We only splatted three."

The girl with the roller shrugged and laughed. "Well, there's only three and a half on their team anyway."

They both laughed, casually painting turf, as though they had already won. Inkley felt his cheeks burn with indignation, and he burst forth from his ink, giving an inarticulate battle cry as he hurled himself at the unsuspecting squids before him. _Squids,_ Inkley thought derisively, feeling unspeakably satisfied as he splatted the slosher.

The roller was faster than Inkley thought, however, and she lunged to meet him. His indignation was replaced with self-preservation, and he pressed his special button. A bubble shimmered into existence around him, and the wave of ink that would of splatted him instead pooled uselessly at his feet. With a scowl, the roller threw herself forward again, thrusting the head of her roller at Inkley's stomach. His bubble flexed beneath the blow, throwing Inkley onto his rear, but it remained intact. Inkley felt panic rise up within him once more, actually afraid of the girl before him, and he raised his shooter as he crawled backwards. Horns all over the field sounded, but Inkley depressed the trigger anyway before he realized his error. He jerked his weapon away and opened his mouth to belt out an apology, but the damage was done, and his opponent screamed as blue stained her form. She stood stock-still for a moment, staring at the ink on her shirt, before she glared daggers at Inkley and stormed towards him, her roller falling onto the ground behind her.

"You kelp-munching brat!" She shouted, her fists balling. "What the hell is wrong with you? Did mommy and daddy not teach you how to use a shooter or something?! I should-"

"You should what?" Both Inkley and the girl before him turned as someone stepped out into the clearing with them. Inkley recognized his masked teammate, though she held her mask by its straps now. Her shooter was slung over her shoulder and she stared expectantly at the girl. When she got no answer, she laughed, and stepped closer, trailing blue ink from her boots. "I'm sorry, were you not done harassing this poor kid?"

Their opponent looked as though she were about to respond, when Judd appeared, standing atop the taller stack of shipping containers. He withdrew two flags, blue and pink, and unceremoniously raised the pink one. Inkley's shoulders sagged as everything but disappointment drained out of him.

His opponent smirked down at him, and reached out to flick his tentacles. " _It's too bad your little bubble didn't help at all._ " She hissed.

Inkley flinched away from her and gave the most defiant glare he could muster. The girl laughed and pivoted, retrieving her roller and moving towards the exit at a brisk pace. Inkley was almost startled when his teammate clapped his on the shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about her." She said, smiling encouragingly. "I knew her in school. She was a _huuuge_ bitch." Inkley couldn't help but laugh, and she gave him a nod. "Better luck next time."

Their team's roller appeared. "Hey. I wondered where you went off to."

The girl beside Inkley laughed and clapped him on the shoulder again. "I had to save our new little buddy from Samantha."

The young man scrunched his face up. "Oh."

She laughed again, and stepped away, taking her friend's hand. "Yeah. See you later, kid!" She said, waving her weapon at Inkley. She began pulling her friend towards the exit. "C'mon, I'll buy you some ice cream and we can watch the ships load."

Her friend groaned, but allowed himself to be led. "I keep telling you, Port Mackerel isn't romantic."

Inkley waited a moment before following after them. He could hear them idly discussing plans as they walked, but ignored it, instead fixing his gaze firmly on the ground. He found Jet waiting from him at the exit, and she fell into step beside him as they went to retrieve their belongings.

"What happened?" Jet asked without preamble.

"I accidentally inked this girl after the match was over. She got mad, but the chick with the gas mask saved my butt." Inkley replied.

"Oh. Yeah, that happens sometimes." Jet sighed and shrugged. "She didn't get to you, did she?"

Inkley waited a long moment before answering. In truth, some of what she had said bit surprisingly deep, but Inkley had no desire to let his sister know. "No."

"Good." Jet said, stowing her charger in its bag. "You feel up for another?"

"I don't know. That…" Inkley began, making a noise. "That sucked."

Jet remained quiet for a moment before shrugging. "Fair enough. Let's head home." She motioned for Inkley to follow. "Come on, squiddo. I could use a bite to eat. I'll make us some noodles or something."

That sounded fantastic to Inkley, and he followed in Jet's wake without hesitation, shouldering his bag as he did so. He idly wondered if he would ever see his other teammates again, but shook the thought from his head a moment later as a sudden growl from his stomach drew his attention to more important matters. Jet led Inkley in silence for a long while, before her pace slowed. She glanced casually at Inkley from the corner of her eye, and Inkley returned the gesture.

"Hey, squiddo." Jet said at last.

"Yeah?" Inkley replied, looking up at Jet.

Jet opened her mouth, looking as though she were about to say something profound, but closed it again. She remained silent for a long moment. "Has mom talked about anything… serious, lately?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno!" Jet snapped without anger. "That's why I asked you, Squirt." Seeing the look Inkley gave her, she shrugged and looked ahead. "Like, uh, turf war, or being a grown-up, or… me, even."

Inkley's unsure gaze only intensified. "You?"

"Yeah. Or _turf war_ , or anything related to it. You know how she feels about that kind of stuff."

"No, she hasn't talked about anything like that." Inkley replied, shrugging weakly.

Jet made a noise and nodded, staring ahead of her with an unreadable expression. Inkley watched her for a while, trying to figure out what she was thinking. They walked in silence, eventually arriving at Jet's apartment complex. Jet led the way, unlocking and opening her door before stepping inside. Inkley followed her in and closed the door behind him. Jet disappeared into her room, and Inkley went to the couch, scooping all of his belongings back into his bag before dropping it on the floor. Jet emerged from her room a minute later and walked to the kitchen.

She rummaged through the cupboards, and, apparently dissatisfied, went to the fridge, then the freezer.

"Hey," Jet called, "I got some dumplings. Sound good?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

Inkley found himself staring blankly at the TV screen as he listened to Jet prepare what he guessed to be leftover or premade dumplings. He didn't pay the slightest attention to what was actually playing, and slumped deeply into the couch, exhaling as he contemplated the day.

Inkley started as Jet sat down beside him, laughing at his reaction.

"What's wrong?" Jet asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Inkley remained quiet for a moment, before shooting his sister an unsure look. "I was gonna ask you that."

"What do you mean?" Jet asked, though Inkley wasn't sure if she was playing dumb or not.

"Earlier, when you asked about mom. You sounded serious."

Jet looked away for a moment, before sighing. "We don't get along like we used to, Squirt." She said hesitantly.

"Why not?"

"Both of us want what's best for you, Inkley. But we have very different ideas on what that is." Jet said with a frown. "I think you need to get out and experience what the world has to offer, but mom would rather shut you in and baby you until her arranged marriage for you comes through."

Inkley had no doubts that his mother had a very different view on the whole affair, but kept that to himself. "Arranged marriage?" He asked, biting into Jet's obvious bait.

His sister grinned at him, breaking the suddenly serious mood. "Oh, yeah. Mom's totally trying to set you up with her boss' daughter. Remember last year, all those play-dates?"

Inkley laughed at the memory, and Jet laughed with him. They stayed quiet for a moment, content to let the moment be, but Inkley felt the weight of another question on his mind, and he had an inclination to break the comfortable silence.

"Jet?" He asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"Why does mom hate turf wars?"

Jet frowned thoughtfully, pausing to think. "Tell you what," She said at a length. "I'll let you in on that little secret if you let me in on one of yours."

Inkley stopped to consider this. "Like what?"

Jet grinned at him. "I wanna know more about that Luma girl."

Inkley glared at his sister. "We're not-"

"Not dating, I know, I know!" Jet interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "Listen, I'm not trying to make fun of you. I just want to know what you know about her."

"Fine." Inkley replied with a sigh.

"We'll talk over dinner, okay?" Jet asked, standing and going to the kitchen without waiting for a response.

Inkley closed his eyes and allowed himself to slump even deeper into the cushions of the couch, hoping through sheer willpower he could slip inside it and disappear forever. He had no such luck, however, and a few minutes later, he cracked open an eye as Jet set down two plates of dumplings. She picked up the remote and turned the TV off before sitting down, turning slightly to face Inkley.

"Okay," Jet said, stuffing a dumpling into her mouth. "You go first. How'd you meet her?"

Inkley took a deep breath. "Remember when you gave me my shooter? When we first saw the Tangerines, and Cherry introduced you?"

"Yeah, the day the whole plaza got painted up."

"... She was the girl I was staring at…"

Jet laughed, nearly choking on her food as she did so. "Makes sense." Was all she said.

"When we left Frank's, she saw me with the shooter, and when we went to the plaza, her and some of the other Tangerines were there. Some of them got busted painting the place. She didn't, but she stayed to watch whoever did, or something. She saw me there and thought I painted the place, too."

"When did all this happen?"

"While you were yelling at that fish."

"For the record," Jet said, looking cross. "The fish was yelling at _me_. Because he's a jerk."

"Well, while you were _getting yelled at_ by the fish, she kinda just appeared next to me. We talked for a minute before she gave me a note and left."

"A note confessing her undying love?" Jet asked before howling with laughter. Inkley glared at her and slugged her shoulder, but that did little to deter her laughter. "Okay, okay, sorry! I couldn't help myself!" She took the better part of a minute to compose herself, before breathing out and shaking her head. "Okay, for real. What did the note say?"

Inkley bit his lip. "You can keep a secret, right?"

Jet laughed. "I hope so, otherwise pretty much all of my friends are gonna be _really_ mad at me."

Satisfied with that, Inkley took a deep breath. "She asked me to meet her at the plaza, the next night at eleven, for-"

"A romantic rondevous?"

Inkley groaned, and punched his sister again. Jet roared with laughter, and Inkley ate while he waited for her to calm down.

"Okay, okay, I'm done, I swear." Jet said eventually, raising a hand for emphasis.

"She brought me to join this group of kids who get together to play with ink on the sewers every other week. It's all sort of led by this guy everyone calls Blue. He's a Tangerine too, and the Captain's brother. Luma hates him _and_ his brother."

"Then why doesn't she quit?" Jet asked. "She's pretty good. Could probably get on with most other teams."

Inkley shrugged weakly. "I dunno. She says they _know turf war_ , or something like that."

"She's not wrong." Jet said plainly. She waited a moment. "So is that it, then? The whole story?"

"Sort of." Inkley said, scratching his neck sheepishly. "We did a few turf wars together, and she even said she'd help me get better. But she's really… _weird._ I don't understand her, or the way she thinks."

"Weird is fun." Jet said with a grin. "Have you seen the group of crazies I've put together? They're the _best_."

Inkley laughed weakly, realizing that he couldn't argue with her. He cleaned his plate, expecting Jet to drop the subject and make good on her part of the deal.

"So, _do_ you have a thing for her?"

"Wh-what?" Was all Inkley could manage.

"Luma." Jet returned, smirking. "Do you like her? Like-like her? Because Synth would get _super_ jealous."

Inkley felt his cheeks burn with shame and indignation, and instead of answering, he made a sour face at Jet and crossed his arms. Jet laughed surprisingly tenderly, and set a gentle hand on Inkley's shoulder.

"Don't worry, Squirt." She said quietly. "I'm sure that, beneath that _I'll kick your ass_ exterior, there's a mushy _cuddle me and buy me flowers_ center."

Inkley remained silent for a moment. He eventually looked at Jet, dearly wanting to believe his sister's words. "You… you think so?"

Jet smiled softly, but her words rang hollow. "Probably."

They sat in silence for a long while, the both of them contemplating something that would have been lost on the other.

"Now it's your turn." Inkley said at last.

Jet exhaled. "I hoped you would forget…" She lightly slapped Inkley's back. "Alright, get comfy. I've got a little story to tell you, Squirt."

 **Hey, ladies and gentlesquids. Sudden computer problems have forced me to complete this chapter on my phone, and I'm not sure when I can get it fixed. The next few chapters may be significantly shorter as a result. Thanks for your patience. Or impatience. Either way, thanks. You squids are the best.**


	11. Story Time

_Hannah let out a whoop of joy as she rolled over an inattentive inkling, turning them into a puddle of yellow ink. They floated away to respawn, but Hannah was already moving forward, carving a swath of yellow through the sea of blue before her. She heard footsteps, and a grunt from behind her. She didn't bother turning._

" _Come on, Isaac." Hannah said, slowing her charge for the briefest moment. "We're winning!"_

" _I'm with you!" Returned Isaac, trotting to catch up with Hannah. "Let's keep on winning, then."_

 _Hannah grinned, spurred on by her teammate's presence. Surging forward with renewed vigor, she burst into a clearing, sliding to a halt as she swung her roller in a horizontal arc. The weight of her roller carried her to the ground, and Isaac dove over her, his Splattershot laying down a suppressing wave of ink. Righting herself, Hannah saw another enemy fighter go up in a splash of yellow. She slid past Isaac, stopping only to slap him on the shoulder. He gave a grunt of acknowledgement, and they spent a few moments claiming the area, turning its entirety yellow._

 _From the corner of her eye, Hannah saw a shape making ripples in the yellow as it sped towards her. Carrie emerged from the ink, brushing a tentacle out of her face as she did so. She glanced between Hannah and Isaac, and a small smile formed on her lips. Hannah couldn't help but return the smile, and with a gesture, the three of them were moving down the path towards the opposing base._

 _With her roller down, Hannah lead the way towards the enemy base. She had no doubt that their fourth was on the way to them, and she felt confident that they could keep their advantage with their whole team pressuring the enemies like this. Isaac went off on his own, since his shooter was the most balanced weapon on their team. Carrie followed after Hannah, her charger stabbing out far ahead of what Hannah's roller could reach. Hannah caught the occasional glance of Isaac as he moved, but for the most part, she and Carrie went on their own, trusting their teammate to take care of himself._

 _The pace they set led them to the opposing base in no time, and they stood just out of their range to force them to come out of their base and risk their own necks._

 _At least that had been the plan. It was forgotten as a thick streak of blue shot past Hannah's head. She froze like a snail in headlights as another came towards her. She would have been splatted had Carrie not yanked her out of the path, into a small cubby beside the path. Carrie shot Hannah a glance, but said nothing. Hannah cursed herself for freezing, and pressed herself against the wall, peering around the corner. She could only pull back as another blast of ink forced her back into cover._

" _We're stuck." Hannah growled, resting her head against the wall. She looked at Carrie, hoping her friend would have some profound advice. "Ideas?" Carrie cocked an eyebrow at her and shrugged. "Alright…. Uh, let's make a run for it. I'll toss out a bomb, and then we go back somewhere we can defend. Here we go…"_

 _Hannah exhaled, holding up her fist. She counted to three with her fingers, and then hurled a suction bomb down the path. She gave it just a second to prime, and then dove into the yellow at her feet, swimming back to the clearing they had claimed earlier. Hannah could feel Carrie swimming behind her, and together they fell back._

" _Do you see Isaac?" Hannah asked. Not a moment later, she heard a shout of dismay and the sound of splatting. She sighed as she peered down the path Isaac had taken, and saw only a blue stain on the ground. "Splat. We need Sam."_

" _Speak of the devil…" Carrie said softly._

 _Hannah looked over her shoulder and let out a breath as Sam entered the clearing, grinning broadly. "There you are. Come on, we need to defend our turf!"_

 _Sam opened her mouth to say something, but was silenced as Carrie burst apart in a splash of blue. Both Hannah and Sam turned as two members of the opposing team charged from their base. Hannah swung her roller in a wide arc, throwing out enough ink to splat one of them. Another took their place, and a Tentatek shooter splatted her. As she floated into the air, she watched as Sam was splatted and three members of the enemy team charged towards her base. She cursed herself again, this time for being so inattentive._

 _As she respawned, she could see the enemy fighters taking control of the open space before their base. Her entire body sagged as she realized that their slip up may have cost them the match. Hannah inhaled shakily and made her way towards the fight, but stopped and slid to her knees as the horn sounded. Leaning heavily on the handle of her roller, she watched as Judd appeared from seemingly nowhere, two flags in his little paws. The small cat glanced around at the gathered inklings before raising both flags. They remained in the air for a moment, and eventually, the yellow one sank. Hannah's heart sank with it. She heard a collective cry, mixing those of victory and defeat, go up from nearby. Hannah would have lent her voice to the sound, to let out frustration and sorrow, but she found that she felt neither. She was just so_ tired _. She sagged against the handle of her roller and set her head against it. The cool metal felt good against her forehead, but did little to raise her spirit._

 _She sat there for a long while, content to wallow in self-pity. Other inklings brushed past her, none of them paying any heed to the fact that tears were clearly streaming down her her bleary eyes, she saw two of her teammates trudge past, their eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Hannah was certain she was the last body on the field, but was startled when an arm hooked underneath hers._

" _Come on." Carrie said softly, pulling Hannah gently to her feet._

 _With Hannah leaning on Carrie's shoulder, dragging her roller through the ink behind her, they left the final field of their last Splatfest._

* * *

Inkley found his mouth slightly agape. "Mom was in a Splatfest? With aunt Carrie?"

"Sure was." Jet replied. "They made it through the placement matches to the final stage of the preliminaries. Got disqualified in a sudden death match."

"She's never talked about anything like that before." Inkley said, rubbing his cheek with his knuckles thoughtfully.

"I'm not surprised. She only told me that story after I started doing turf wars." Jet playfully punched Inkley's shoulder. "I lost one, and it really got me down. She sat me down and told me that story. Really put things into perspective, I guess. A cautionary tale, or something." Jet laughed, but it was a forced laugh. She remained quiet for a moment, before looking at Inkley. "Don't take this stuff too seriously." She said, though Inkley wasn't sure if Jet meant the story, or something else.

"Right." Inkley replied absently.

There was a long silence between them. Jet stuffed the last of her dinner in her mouth before standing up and taking Inkley's plate.

"Alright, squiddo." Jet said at a length, walking to the kitchen. "Time for bed. I'm thinking we can give it another go tomorrow morning, if you're up for it. Maybe we'll get lucky and catch a match with some other little squiddies like you."

"Yeah, sure." Inkley said with a nod.

"Great." Jet gave Inkley a grin. "Hit the hay, and we'll get an early start." She strode to her room, stopping before she stepped through the door. "G'night, squiddo."

"Good night."

* * *

Inkley stretched with a yawn and stood to make himself something to eat. He glanced at Jet's door, and sighed as he realized that she was still asleep. _So much for an early start._ He brought a bowl of cereal to the couch and turned the TV on, deciding that, on a whim, he wanted to let Jet sleep for a while longer. Inkley ate slowly, and after depositing his empty bowl in the sink, went to Jet's door and rapped a knuckle against it. From within, he heard a groan.

"Go away." Croaked Jet, eventually.

"Wake up." Inkley replied. "It's, like, eight-thirty."

Jet groaned again, but Inkley heard her move from her bed. He knew it would take her a while to get going, and figured it would be a good time to clean himself up. Gathering a change of clothes, Inkley went to the bathroom and shucked his clothing, heaping it up by the door before turning the shower on. He waited a moment before stepping in, but let out a blissful groan as the hot water washed over him. He washed himself at a leisurely pace.

He came out of his reverie when he heard pounding on the door.

"Hurry up!" Jet called. "I need to use _my_ bathroom!"

Inkley smirked. "Your eyes are bigger than your bladder!"

"Did you just - you little squid! If that wasn't a perfect comeback, I'd run _all_ the hot water and freeze your snarky butt!"

Perfect comebacks aside, Inkley felt he was clean enough, and he shut the water off and stepped out into the bathroom, shivering as the cold air hit him. He dressed in his new clothes and brushed his teeth before stepping out. Jet shoved past him with a groan and slammed the door behind her.

"Squid!" Jet snapped, though her voice had no anger in it.

Inkley deposited his wadded up clothing on the couch and emptied everything but his shooter and it's tank from his bag. As ready as he could be, he sat down and waited for his sister. She emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, looking refreshed and ready for the day. Jet went into her room for a moment, and came out with her charger case over her shoulder and her phone in hand, busily typing out a message.

"Ready?" Jet asked, not looking up from her phone.

"Yeah." Inkley replied, turning the TV off and standing.

"Great…" Jet drawled, finally putting her phone away. She looked at Inkley and grinned. "Alright, let's get a move on."

Jet opened the door and stepped out. Inkley followed her, stopping to wait as she locked the door. And then they set out towards the plaza.

The trip was dull. They walked in relative silence to the nearest train station and boarded the first train to the plaza. It was fairly busy, forcing them siblings to share a seat. Inkley stared out the window for most of the ride, but occasionally glanced at Jet. She spent the majority of the ride on her phone, and Inkley found himself somewhat suspicious of her.

The train eventually came to a halt, with a voice coming over the speakers to announce their arrival at Inkopolis Plaza. As usual, a several dozen inklings of all ages milled about the area, chatting or gazing at the windows of the shops. Jet crammed a hand into her pocket, and Inkley frowned at her.

"Don't say it." Inkley said. "I'm not thirsty, and you're just gonna go yell at a fish."

"I already said that-" Jet stopped mid-sentence, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Never mind. I'm not going to talk to them. Just…" Jet waved dismissively. "Go sit down somewhere, or something."

Jet seemed to be done with Inkley, and she walked past him, scanning the crowd for someone or something. Inkley sighed as she went, and turned away, looking for somewhere to seat himself. The balcony to the dojo was empty, save for a single inkling who seemed to be waiting for someone. Settling on that, Inkley hefted his bag and made his way through the crowd, ascending the ramp and stopping at the very edge of the balcony. He set his bag down and leaned on the railing, strangely satisfied with the view from just above the crowd.

Inkley spent a moment enjoying the view, and seated himself on the edge of the balcony, sticking his head underneath the railing. He looked out at the crowd for a while, busying himself by trying to pick out Jet amongst the sea of heads and tentacles. He had no luck, but managed to distract himself long enough for someone to approach him from behind. He didn't bother turning to look.

"Hey." Inkley said after a moment.

"Hey, kid." Came the response, though it wasn't the voice Inkley had expected.

"Luma?" Inkley asked, twisting his head around to look at her.

"Yeah." Luma replied, her voice making the stupidity of Inkley's question obvious. She unslung her bag from her shoulders and set it down, seating herself beside Inkley. "Haven't heard from you in a while."

"I haven't heard from you either." Inkley replied hesitantly.

"I tried messaging you yesterday." Luma said, giving Inkley a sidelong glance.

Inkley felt his cheeks flush, and he laughed nervously. "I wasn't home yesterday. I was with my sister. I might have left my computer on."

There was a long silence, and Inkley was briefly afraid that Luma was upset with him. His fear was dispelled as she shook her head and laughed a melodical laugh that made Inkley genuinely laugh with her.

"Nice." Luma said eventually. There was another silence, but Inkley felt far less tense than during the last one. "So what're you doing out here?"

"I'm actually still out with my sister." Inkley admitted sheepishly. "We were gonna do some turf wars."

"Oh." Luma said. "Well-"

" _Inkleeeeeeeey!_ "

Inkley put his face in his hands as two pairs of footsteps drew closer. He already knew the owner of one, and was willing to bet his tentacles on the owner of the other pair. He pulled himself up on the railing, and turned to face Jet and Synthia as they came up the ramp. Inkley noted that Synthia had her bag with her.

"Look who I found, Squirt!" Jet said, nudging Synthia with her elbow. "Synth's gonna be joining us today." Glancing at Luma, Jet grinned. "Guess you found a friend, too. Luma, right? I'm Inkley's sister, Jet. And this is Synthia." She nudged her friend's side again.

"Hey." Luma said coolly as she stood.

Both Jet and Synthia gave Inkley knowing grins, and he felt a pit grow in his stomach. Luma shouldered her bag, and looked as though she was about to say something, but remained quiet.

"Y'know, Luma," Jet began lazily, "we were just about to start a day of turf war. Finding matches with just the three of us would be kind of weird." Inkley immediately knew where Jet's train of thought was going, and wasn't sure if he was more thrilled or terrified. "We could use a fourth, if you're not busy."

Luma looked as though she spent a long moment contemplating the offer before giving a shrug. "Sure. Got nothing better to do."

Inkley had the tiniest suspicion that maybe, _just maybe_ , she didn't really need to think about the answer, but immediately discarded the thought. Luma was a creature of whim and confusion. And that sent a shiver up his spine.


End file.
